Lady America 2 - WWIII
by noorwrites
Summary: After being frozen for 70 years, Marty and Steve wake up in the 21st century, but the war inst over. The Tesseract is back in the hands of a new enemy and his target is much larger than just the US. Marty and Steve suddenly have a new cause to fight for and a new "team" to fight with. Not to mention their feelings that were left unspoken in the past. The war has just begun.Steve/OC
1. Room 5C

_***Welcome to the sequel! Woo! Okay so a few things to say.**_

_**1) The story starts off after Steve wakes up in the 21st century, showing Steve's life after he woke up. From here on out the story will follow the plot of the Avengers movie, mostly. While plotting I changed MANY things. It was kind of tricky since the movie is so beautifully plotted, but I did it. I'm really excited to get this thing going, though. Sorry it took me so long, by the way. **_

_**2) I have made an updating schedule! It will be every Monday and Thursday. I'm going to try to keep up with it and work really hard to meet these deadlines.**_

_**3) Of course, there are going to be many new characters in this sequel. I hope I do them justice.**_

_**4) When you see this "..." in the story randomly, not in a sentence, this means it's a new scene. I realized in Lady America the scene break signs never showed up. **_

_**And that's pretty much it. All I can say is that this new life for Marty and Steve is going to be challenging and I hope you stick around to see where it takes them. Hope you enjoy, and remember leave me a review if you want telling me what you think. **_

_**(I'm very excited and hopeful in this author's note, aren't it. Hm.)**_

_**-Noor xx**_

**On the Realm of the Chitauri**

The demi-god gripped his scepter tightly in his grasp as he walked along the rugged terrain of the unknown real of which he found himself. He was growing weary, for his journey before had been tiring and lengthy, and without doubt, the journey ahead of him was going to be much longer, but he did not dread it; he had hopes for a great plan. This plan, however, could not be done alone. The demi-god needed some assistance, and he was going to find it here; on the land of the Chitauri.

He stopped in his place, looking around curiously at the realm before him. It was dark; the only light was coming down from the countless stars and constellations that swirled above his head and from the blue light that emitted from his scepter, which he didn't dare loosen his grip on. He just stood; waiting for the person who he hoped would soon a make a deal – a trade – with him. For a short moment the demi-god believed he had been misled. Perhaps this wasn't the right realm? But then, a shadowy figure emerged from behind a large black rock. The demi-god would've never seen it if it wasn't for its bright red eyes, making it pop against the utter darkness of everything.

"Loki of Asgard, we have been expecting you," the shadowy figure whispered eerily as it approached the green eyed Loki of Asgard, or so he _was_ of that realm.

"Yes, I've come on something of a business trip." Loki began, walking closer toward the figure which he knew as The Other.

"What business do you speak of?" The Other asked, curiously.

"A trade," Loki said instantaneously. "Are you familiar with an energy source called The Tesseract?" Loki said, turning his back to The Other. There was a short silence.

"The Tesseract," The Other said, his tone suggesting a great deal of intrigue. Loki's lips twitched upward in a sly smile, he knew this would spark The Other's interests; things were moving smoothly as planned.

"I'm assuming you've heard of it, then?" Loki said smugly and turned around to face the creature that was now much closer than he had been before. Loki could now see his skin. It was grey and thick, its veins were visible and bulging from its skin, running down its arms and neck, and its teeth were long and deformed with razor sharp points.

"You have this power?" The Other asked gravely.

"Not yet, but I can get it. I've been searching for a long time, and I've found it." Loki said, beginning to circle his business partner. "I'm willing to give up this power and hand it to you –."

"I want it," The Other said immediately, seizing the demi-god roughly by his leather collar.

"It is not that simple, I'm afraid." Loki said with a slight chuckle, looking down at the Chitauri's bulky hand.

The Other grumbled, releasing Loki. "Name your price, Asgardian," he spoke, red eyes fixed on the man before him.

It irked the demi-god to be called an 'Agardian'. His days on that realm were long gone; he was no longer of its people, but for business purposes he let it slide. "An army," he answered, "Your army. You send your forces into Earth, the realm on which the Tesseract lies and you shall have your unlimited power."

"Earth? What quarrel do you have on such a realm?" The Other asked.

Revenge; the answer was simple. Revenge was nestled deep inside of the demi-god, growing like a festering sore. Earth, the realm his Oh So Worthy brother, Thor, held so dear to his heart, would soon be under Loki's control. He would be the real king of a world he made fall at his feet. However, Loki ignored The Other's question. "Do we have a deal, then?" He asked, diverting the subject back to the trade, "The Tesseract for your army." Loki extended his free hand.

The Other paused, thinking deeply, but the trade seemed simple enough, "Deal." He shook Loki's hand. "But I warn you, Asgardian, fail to fulfill your side of the deal and the consequences will be far greater than an army could inflict."

Loki smirked and threw The Other's threat right back into his hostile, deformed face, "I couldn't have said it better myself."

**Steve**

I stood by the crosswalk, my hands buried deep into my pockets as I waited for the light across the road to change. I rocked back and forth on the heels of my feet, watching the strange cars with their sharp modern designs and speed zoom past me. My new apartment building was right across the street, and I would be there already, but the crosswalk light was fixed on the same red hand, telling me to stay put. Maybe it was stuck, or broken? Was I _supposed_ to be standing here for the past ten minutes? I sighed, running a hand through my hair, and stared down the street at that red hand that just wouldn't budge.

Then, just when I was thinking about giving up, a business man, I judged by his suit, waltzed right up to the crosswalk light beside us and pressed the yellow button on the pole. He waited there for a short moment, checking the time on his watch. Then, the cars on the road came to a halt and the sign across the street changed from the red hand into a picture of man walking. The business man took his briefcase and strolled right down the street, leaving me feeling like a big old idiot, "_The button; why didn't I think of that?" _I thought and walked across the white stripes on the street before the picture could change back.

I finally made it across the road and approached the building that supposedly had my apartment in it. I looked up at the brick building, squinting as the sun hit my eyes. The number thirteen was posted in white letters on top of the front doors. Thirteen…was I building thirteen? I looked down, pulling a small sheet of yellow paper out of my jacket pocket and unfolded it.

_51__st__ Street, Apartment building number 13, Room 5C._

Yup; this was it. I took a deep breath and walked toward the building. I opened the front doors and let myself in. _"Room 5C…" _I repeated in my head as I began to ascend the stairs. Two floors…three floors…four…and five. I reached my floor. There was long hallway with old dark green carpeting covering the floor. There were about six doors stretched out across the hall, and at the very end, just to set my spirits that much higher, was an elevator. I let out an exasperated sigh and dragged my feet to the apartment that read _"5C". _I pulled out the key Director Fury had given me, and unlocked the door.

I stepped inside the unfamiliar room, feeling around the dry wall for a light switch. I flicked on the lights and was greeted by a small living room and the doorway to a kitchen. I closed the front door behind me and walked on in. Sighing, I buried my hands deep inside my pockets once again and began exploring the house. I walked past the living room, which was just a couple of couches and a small wooden coffee table, and went into the single bedroom which also had a bathroom. The kitchen was nice, a working fridge, though it was empty, a sink, some appliances. The house was a good size, or should I say great size, considering I didn't even pay for any of it. S.H.I.E.L.D, the agency who had found me in the ice, did all of this. It was a very nice gesture, I owed them.

After looking around the apartment for a little while, I wound up right back in the living room, plopping myself down on the stiff, unused couch. It's kind of sentimental of me to be thinking this, but I've always been called a softy. I mean, the apartment was great and all, really, but it was so _new_. Even the couch was brand new. It didn't feel like a couch whose cushions had been squished under their owner's weight, or had people absentmindedly wipe their oily hands on after finishing a bag of chips, or it didn't have its own collection of lost pennies and dimes in between the cushions. It was all just so _new _when all I really wanted was the opposite…

I found myself looking outside the large window in the living room, the high afternoon sun beaming through the glass. I hopped on my train of thought and began losing myself. I just couldn't believe any of this was happening. When I crashed Schmidt's plane into the water I was sure that was the end. Schmidt was dead, Marty too, and I had to do something about those bombs. So, I just put her in the water, but then suddenly I wake up seventy years later, the world I knew all of a sudden just didn't exist.

S.H.I.E.L.D. found me in the ice and defrosted me, kind of like those frozen dinner you'd buy from the market. They told me what had happened, that the serum was the reason I managed to stay alive all those years, and that was it. I was now Steve Rogers, that 21st Century fella with the funny lingo. I think people thought I had gotten over the shock pretty fast, but I guess waking up in a new century after being frozen in plane wreckage for seventy years isn't exactly something you can just _get over_.

I sighed for the billionth time that day and covered my face with my hands, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes. I've been doing this to myself every now and then since I woke up. When I'd sit down and really think about the 40's, the war, the people that I cared about, I'd just beat myself up about it. I know I shouldn't, but sometimes it was hard. I know I had to be strong and get my life back together, but at that moment, I was just going to let me beat myself up about it again. I took my hands off my face and rested my head on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I just couldn't shut my brain off; it was like a radio constantly playing in my mind. Then, a memory filled my mind. It was of me walking up to a bunk, looking for my best friend Bucky, and instead finding his sister. Of course she wasn't too happy to see me, her being half-naked and all, but it was the first time I really got to talk to her, and that was the longest conversation I had ever had with a woman. And jee, what a woman she was…

I smiled softly to myself as I reminisced; I really did miss her. Peggy did keep her word, though. As I was about to crash the plane, Peggy called me on the radio. I remember telling her to tell the world Marty's real story, to let them know; and boy did she tell them. Nowadays Marty is an American icon. Kids learn about her in classrooms, she's in texts books, she has tributes; everything she deserved. I just wished she could've stuck around to see it for herself.

For the next few weeks I spent most of my time boxing at a nearby gym. It was becoming a bad habit of mine, but it was helping with the whole situation. The guy who owned the place wasn't too happy about it, though. I might've punched through one or two punching bags before, but I swear I paid for them.

**...**

It was like any other night at my apartment. I was lying down on the couch, reading over the Sunday paper, even though it was Wednesday and I already had most of it memorized. It didn't really matter that I had read it before, though; I wasn't paying attention anyways. It was all just a bunch of meaningless words to me now.

You see, I was doing that thing where I beat myself again, and by the second page I wasn't even looking at the paper anymore, but outside the window, losing myself in my thoughts once again. I stayed like that for a few moments, the newspaper gradually slipping from my hands and to the floor. I snapped out of it, turning away from the window. Gosh, I really had to stop doing that to myself. Before I could think another painful thought, I pushed myself off the couch, leaving the paper stranded on the floor, slipped on my shoes, grabbed my jacket and duffle bag from beside the couch, and left my apartment. I was going to the gym.

**...**

"Uh…Mr. Ralph, sir," I called, my voice echoing in the empty gym as I closed the door behind me. It was an old gym and from what I saw in the last few weeks, it didn't bring in much of a crowd. So, usually it was just me and the punching bags. Oh and Ralph, the owner. I walked further into the gym, dropping my gym bag beside one of the wooden benches. "Ralph?" I called out again.

Out came a short, old man (not as old as me) from a small room near the back of the gym, it was his office. He wasn't the most upbeat of guys. Ralph didn't like people under the age of 40, he didn't like birds because they 'never shut up', he didn't like people coming to his gym or going in his office, he complained about his wife Susan a lot, and the list went on and on. He was a grumpy old man with only few white hairs left on his head, but I liked him. Ralph on the other hand, he tolerated me.

"Oh, it's you; big, blond, and built," He said, closing his office door behind him and locking it, "Sam."

"Steve, actually," I said, reminding him for the hundredth time. At least the name started with an 'S' this time; it was a start. "You closin' up, sir?" I asked, hoping I wasn't too late.

"Yup, maybe if you'd come before 9:00 PM I'd be open," he said, bitterly, walking past me.

"Sir, could I just stay? I just I…it's just that…I really need to—," I said, trying to explain why I needed to stay here so bad, but Ralph cut me off.

"If I let you stay will you shut up?" He asked. I cleared my throat awkwardly and nodded my head. He sighed, throwing me the keys to the gym, "Just remember to lock up, and don't go in my damn office."

"No problem," I assured him as he began to leave, angrily mumbling something under his breath about how he had to go home to Susan and her chewy meatloaf. Then I remembered my last visit to the gym and how I ripped a couple of punching bags; I owed him money. "Sir," I said, hurrying towards him. He turned around, giving me a death glare, "Here's for last time…" I said, digging in my pocket and pulling out a couple of tens, "Sorry for the trouble."

Ralph grumbled, taking the money from my hands, "You're lucky I can tolerate you, kid." Then he walked out of the gym, leaving me alone with myself.

Without wasting another minute, I put the keys down on the bench, took off my jacket, and began opening my gym bag. I pulled out a wrap for my hands and began to binding them up. Then I remembered Marty, and the wraps that once concealed her chest…. I shook my head, trying to forget. I finished wrapping my hands and walked over to the last punching bag hook in the back of the gym. There was a row of punching bags on the wooden floor. I picked one up single handedly with ease and placed it on the hook.

For the next couple hours there was nothing but the sound of my fists against the fabric of the punching bag. I just kept punching; right fist, left fist, beads of sweat beginning to drip down my face, my jaw clenched tight, my mind in a world far away, or a time more like it. Images of the past kept running through my head, and I didn't want them because they made me angry, they made me frustrated. Because yesterday I could drink a beer with the team and have a chat with my best friend, and now I couldn't. I. Just. Couldn't!

I was punching harder than before, my breath growing heavy now. I knew I was about to rip through it if I punched the bag one more time, but as I swung my right fist over to beat the bag again I heard the unmistakable sound of telephone go off. I jumped slightly, startled by the sound. I stepped away from the punching bag, shaking my hands off a bit. Where was that sound coming from? Was it from inside Ralph's office, if it was I sure wasn't going to answer? It probably wasn't, though, because it sounded a lot closer. Then I remembered Director Fury from S.H.I.E.L.D and how he told me that I should buy a cellphone so he could stay in touch; it was my telephone.

I hurried over to my jacket and dug through the pockets, the phone still ringing. I grabbed hold of my phone, which was also vibrating strangely in my hand along with the ringing. No one had ever called me before so I didn't know what to do. The screen read 'Director Fury'. This had to be important. I clicked the button that looked mostly like it would answer Fury's call and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I said, waiting for an answer.

"Captain," I heard Fury's familiar voice say from the other side. It's been a while since someone called me 'Captain'.

"Yes?"

"This is Director Fury. Something's come up; we need you to come by."

"What is it, sir? Is there somethin' wrong?" I questioned curiously, already beginning to unwrap my hands.

"We found something that I think you might be able to help us understand; a woman."

A certain woman popped into my head, but there was no chance. So, I just brushed it off, "A woman. Where didyah find her?"

"Same place we found you."

The blood rushed from my face. I nearly dropped the phone, "Sir—."

"We'll give you the details when you get here. I'm waiting for you at St. Barnabas Hospital. See you soon." I heard a clicking noise come from the speaker, and Fury's voice was gone.

I stood there for a short moment, listening to the ended call, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. Same place they found me? They found me in the ice, in the plane wreckage, and the only woman on board was her. My thoughts turned into a huge tangled mess as I quickly began packing up my things. I threw the wraps back into my bag, shoved my hands through my jacket, grabbed the keys, and rushed out of the gym. I closed the door, fumbling with the keys as I locked up. I was sweating, but it wasn't because of the workout. If it was her, was she still alive? Was she awake? Would she even remember me?

No, it couldn't be. Marty was dead. She was gone, but still…

More questions than I could count formed in my mind as I stood at the sidewalk, waiting for a cab. Once one came by, I got in and told the driver to take me to St. Barnabas Hospital. The car ride was painfully slow, or at least that's how it felt. I kept fidgeting, shaking my leg impatiently, and drumming my fingertips against the leather seat, but as the cab came to a stop I was suddenly wishing for more time. I was getting anxious. Why was I getting anxious? Even if it was Marty and she was alive, we were friends – are friends.

I paid the cab driver and stepped out of the car. There was the hospital, right in front of me, and standing beside the front doors was Nick Fury, dressed in all black, his hands behind his back, and an eye patch over his right, scarred eye. "Captain Rogers."

"Sir," I greeted him as I approached him.

"Right, follow me," he said, and so I did. We walked into the hospital and he began leading me down a long hall, "Sorry to call you up so late, but unfortunately we couldn't wait until the morning. Hope you weren't busy." He apologized, though he sounded like he knew I wasn't.

"No, I was uh…at the gym, but I was finishing up anyway," I replied, following him down the hall, walking passed nurses and doctors who held clipboards and wore long, white coats, but the only doctor I could think of with a coat like that was Doctor Zola.

Then there was that radio playing in my head again…

"The gym, huh? That explains the sweat. I thought you _ran_ all the way here." Fury said, making me crack a smile, "It's pretty late, though. Why weren't you asleep?"

"I don't really get tired that easily anymore, sir. Plus, I've enough sleep." I said, as we approached a door.

"This is it," Fury said, opening the door and walking in first. I followed after him into what seemed like a normal hospital room. There was a bed with a clear bag hanging beside it, dripping a liquid through a needle into the arm of the person that was on the bed, and that person was a woman, and that woman was Marty Barnes, her eyes closed, seeming gone in a deep sleep.

I think Fury was saying something, but I wasn't listening. As soon as I laid eyes on her, everything else was blurred out. It was _her_ and her skin and her lips and her dark brown hair that was still short at her small ears. It was her in all her alive and very real existence; it was Marty.

"She's alive…?" I barely voiced, my heart stopping at the sight of her chest slowly moving up and down, she was breathing. Schmidt had lied to me.

"Now, I'm just guessing," Fury voice broke me out of my trance, "But it looks like you might know Miss Barnes, here."

I was listening now, but my eyes were still locked on her. "Boy do I know her…" I said, completely in shock. The woman that I had crashed plane thinking was dead lay right in front of me, actually _breathing_. I wasn't alone anymore. There were now two people in this room who didn't know that you had to push the button to get the crosswalk sign to change. "Sir, there was something about me needing to help you understand something. Understand what?" I said, only being able to tear my eyes away from her for a few seconds. What if I looked back and she just disappeared again?

"As you know, we found you in the plane wreckage. What we wanna know is why Miss Barnes, here, was on that flight too, and what was she doing?" He asked with his hands still behind his back.

"She was captured," I began, taking in her familiar features, and boy did I miss familiarity. Gosh, was she really there…? "Johann Schmidt had a bone to pick with her, they didn't exactly see eye to eye. Anyways, he took her captive, gave her his own Super Soldier serum, and forced her on the plane. He was going to make her drop the bombs on the states." I said, not being able to fight the urge to touch her as I lightly brushed the bangs out of her face. "He told me she was dead…."

"So Miss Barnes was given the serum. That explains why she even managed to survive such a crash." Fury said, getting his answer.

I was quiet for a moment, losing myself in the reality of the whole miraculous situation. "How _did_ you find her?" I asked, finally.

"After finding you in the plane wreckage, we thought it'd be best to take a second look, just in case we forgot something." He said. He walked over to the other side of the bed and looked down with his one good eye, "Looks like we did."

I very lightly placed the back of my hand on Marty's cheek. After so many years of sleep you'd think she might've gone a bit pale, but the rosiness was right there on her skin as if it was only yesterday we were fighting side by side on the front lines, but those days were ancient history, "How long 'till she wakes up?" I asked Fury, looking over at him.

He sighed, "It's hard to say, Captain. You and Miss Barnes both made it out alive because of the serum, but we have no way of telling if her body will react the way yours did. We'll just have to wait it out and see. "

I turned my attention back down at Marty as she slept. She looked so calm and peaceful. She had no idea what she was going to wake up to and I couldn't help but think about how lucky she was. Because to her, our old life was still reality, but she couldn't be farther than the truth.


	2. The Debrief

_***Hey, didn't I tell you I'd update every Monday and Thursday? Here's number two. I'm so ecstatic that you liked the first chapter. This story is difficult for me to write just as it is difficult for Steve to live his new life. I too must adapt to new characters and situations, but with the way things are starting out I think it's gonna be great. Thank you for all your kind reviews on the last chapter. You've made me a very happy amateur writer, and I hope you'll stick with me on this journey. Thanks for reading. Enjoy. -Noor xx* **_

**Steve**

I tossed and turned restlessly on my bed, the metal springs bouncing loudly beneath me. I was half asleep; my eyes open, but just barely. They were open enough for me to know that the sun still hadn't fully risen. I could see the soft purple-blue sky of dawn from my dirty bedroom window. It was kind of beautiful; a Marty kind of beautiful. The sun was just rising over the city, its light seeping through the little spaces between the skyscrapers. I rubbed my eyes, yawning widely as I sat up right in my bed, propping myself up on my elbow. I opened my eyes, immediately looking over to the nightstand beside the bed where my cellphone lay. I sighed, reaching for it hopefully, but as I clicked it open to the main screen there was no missed call from Fury, no message, no nothing. There was only the time, displayed in the right hand corner; it was 8:00 AM. So I got about three hours of sleep, considering I finally managed to shut my brain off at 5:00. I dropped the phone beside me on the bed, disappointed yet again.

You see, for the last couple of weeks my phone hasn't left my sight. I've been waiting for any type or form of information from Fury about Marty, but she was still asleep, still lying down on that bed with her rosy cheeks, motionless. I visited her a lot, talking to her in her sleep, trying to get her to wake up, but she still didn't open her eyes, not even a wink. It's nearly been two weeks. I was beginning to think that her seventy years of sleep was soon going to be eighty…

With my spirits low, I slipped out of bed, making sure to take the phone with me as I made my way over to the bathroom. I raised an opened hand to my mouth as I yawned again, lazily pushing open the bathroom door. I walked on in, putting the phone down beside the sink as I cupped my hands with water, bending down to splash the cool liquid onto my face a few times. Once I was a bit refreshed I turned off the sink and looked up into the mirror, and I just couldn't help but sigh at the guy staring back at me. He looked exhausted, the drops of water streaming down the dark circles under his eyes, his hair was messy, sitting in a blonde bird's nest on the top of his aching head. He looked like he had just been fighting a war, and he was, just this time it was more mental than, you know, physical.

I looked away from the mirror, turning around to grab the towel from its hanger, but then I did something dumb; I wasn't going to be the only one who needed a towel now. My elbow accidentally bumped into the phone, knocking it off the sink and sent it plummeting straight towards the toilet. "No!" I hissed under my breath in a flash of panic, trying to grab hold of it, but it just fell into the toilet with a loud _plop_. "No, no, no, _no_…" I said, kneeling down beside the toilet. I shook my head, just staring down at the cell phone that lay at the bottom of the bowl, looking warped beneath the water. There's only one thing I could do.

I braced myself, hesitating for a moment before plunging my hand into the toilet water. I grabbed hold of the phone as quickly as I could and pulled it out, praying to God that it would still turn on. I tried to click it open but the screen was black. I tried again, and again, pressing on the button harder and faster, but nothing happened. I felt like I was back at the crosswalk, feeling hopelessly confused and useless. "Isn't that just dandy?" I said quietly, pushing myself off the floor. I stood up, trying the button for th last time before accepting that it was broken. I gave up, huffing in frustration and tossed the phone into the trashcan.

After vigorously washing my hands, I went back into my room and sat on the edge of the bed, my shoulders slouching gloomily. What if she never woke up? What if I would have to deal with this time era for the rest of life alone? Sure Marty was here, but at the same time it was like they had never found her. I could talk to her but she didn't hear me, I could touch her but she wouldn't feel me; she was a vegetable. I sighed, lying back on the mattress, my hands over my head. What was I going to do now? Spend another day just floating around the apartment? It was about time I got a job wasn't it…? Or maybe I would just lay there and beat myself up again? I pondered these questions for a moment. The 'floating around the apartment' idea was a bit overused, the whole 'go get a job' shtick was going to take too much time, 'beating myself up' seemed promising, but after considering it for another minute I decided all three of the plans were just going to lead to the 'beating myself up' thing. So, with that, I pushed myself off the bed and left the apartment to do the one thing I actually _wanted_ to do.

…

I sat beside her bed, leaning in slightly and clearing my throat before speaking, "Uh…hey Marty," I said, taking her dainty hand in mine. I wondered if she would've wanted me to take her hand, you know if she was awake, but I thought it might help her hear me more. So, I just took it. "It's been nearly two weeks…." I looked down at her peaceful face, hoping her eyes would suddenly flutter open and her mouth would curl up into a smile, but it wasn't going to happen. I sat there in silence, slowly moving my thumb back and forth over her skin, wanting nothing more than for her to just feel me. I sighed, shaking my head, "Come on Barnes; get up." I pleaded, desperately. "That's an order, soldier," I tried, smiling to myself, but I didn't get a 'Got it, Cap' back. I was just being dumb now.

I let go of her hand, letting it fall gently back at her side, the same it's been since they found her. I pulled the white cover that was over her body up to her shoulders, making sure she was warm, and refilled the glass beside her bed with some fresh water; just in case. Then I grabbed my gym bag from the foot of the bed, threw it over my shoulder, and walked over to the door. I took one last hopeful glance at her before closing the door behind me and starting down the hall, feeling my hopes sink beyond the floorboards and foundation of the building, and into the ground.

…

"Hey Ralph," I greeted the old man as I walked into the gym. He was busy at a shelf of dumbbell weights; he stood on the tip of his toes, struggling to stack a couple of weights on the top shelf.

"Oh, hey Scott," he said, glancing over his shoulder. I laughed lightly under my breath.

"Here, let me give you a hand," I offered, dropping my bag beside one of the benches and hurried over to him.

"Aw, forget this. I'm getting too old for this shit; here." He said in defeat, shoving the weights into my hands. "Every time I bend down my back sounds like the fourth of July. What is this, huh? What am I a fucking firecracker? I'm tellin' you, Sebastian. It's all because of Susan. God damn it, she doesn't put enough protein in my dinner…."

A smile crept on to my face, but it was a kind of sad smile. "Nah, I don't think it has anything to do with your wife, sir," I said, stacking the weights on the shelf neatly beside the others. "Things just change when you get older. The world changes, your mindset changes. Things are just different, and there's not really anything you can do about it..." I said, trailing off. My eyes were locked on the shelf of weights as my my mind wandered into other things.

All I could think about was the loss. I had lost so much in my sleep; my team, my best friend, my home, my date to Coney Island. Despite Ralph standing beside me, burning holes into my head with his eyes, I had never felt more alone since I woke up than in that very moment. I began to beat myself up instead of the punching bags, and soon I would fall apart just like all the bags I've ripped through.

I knew I shouldn't keep thinking like this. I wasn't the kind of man to be a victim of hardship. I used to get beat up in alley ways, picked on, belittled, and I never let it get to me, but this was all so different, and I could quickly feel myself falling under the 'victim' category.

"You're pretty chipper for such a young fellow," Ralph's sarcastic tone pulled me out of my trance. I looked over to him, giving him a smile, but a sad kind of smile.

"Tell me about it," I said, embarrassed for shoving my bad mood in the poor guy's face. "Sorry…" I murmured, turning around from Ralph and heading to my usual spot at the corner of the gym.

"Your name isn't Sebastian, is it?" he asked suddenly. I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that his face had changed; his eyebrows weren't furrowed at his wrinkled skin and his face was not scrunched up irritably. He looked almost wounded, like what I said actually affected him. I even saw sympathy in the way he looked over at me. I don't know; guess we had an 'old person' connection.

"No, sir," I replied, simply. "It's Steve, actually. Steve Ro—."

"Rogers," he completed, cutting me off. I smiled slightly, and it wasn't that sad. "Steve Rogers; I'll remember that." Then he nodded his head slowly, quietly repeated my name under his breath, and went into his office.

I stood there for short moment, feeling my spirits rise a bit. Then, I turned to the punching bags, which still laid in a row on the dusty wooden floor, picked one up, and secured it on the metal hook; I went to work. Soon the sounds of my fists pounding against the sand-filled bags echoed throughout the empty gym. I tried not to think, forcing my mind to go blank as I pounded my feelings into the bag, anxious thought after anxious thought slipped out of my mind with every swing I delivered. Maybe what I needed was a fresh start? Maybe I just needed to move on? Maybe…?

My eyes were locked on the bag in front of me, my fists moving mechanically now; left, right, left, right. Then out of the blue; Fury's voice, "Good evening."

He caught me off guard, throwing me into a second of alarm in which I accidently pounded my fist into the bag too hard, tearing apart the fabric. The bag flew across the room, large amounts of sand poured out of it, littering the floor. "You're payin' for that, kid!" Ralph interjected from his office, shutting the door.

I shot my head towards the Director; my hands still is their boxing positions. "Mr. Fury?"

"Is this a bad time, Mr. Rogers?" He said, looking down curiously at the now sand-covered floor with his one good eye, "Because, I can always come back _post _punching bag abuse." He looked up at me, a single eyebrow raised.

"Uh…no, sir; not at all," I said, stepping away awkwardly from the mess I had just made. "Is this about Marty? Is she up?" I asked eagerly. Every thought I had about starting over suddenly evaporated from my mind.

"I'm afraid not..."

That was enough to get my shoulders to sink.

"But there's something _else_ I think you might be interested in." He pulled a manila folder out from behind his back.

I raised an eye brow curiously as he handed me the folder. I flipped it open and printed right on the front page was a cube, a familiar cube. It was a cube I had the unfortunate fate of crossing paths with way back when things made sense. It was a powerful cube. The bright blue that was constantly emitted from it made it sort of beautiful in a strange, lethal way. It was the Tesseract, and the Tesseract was not something you wanted to meet twice; trust me. "Is this some kind of mission?"

"A battle." Fury corrected me. I could feel a familiar sense of duty begin to rush back into my system. I looked back down at the paper, not being able to stop my eyes from reading on. Apparently the cube was stolen from S.H.I.E.L.D., and with that my questions only multiplied.

"How did you find it in the first place?" I asked Fury, glancing up from the paper.

"After your disappearance into the ice, Howard Stark made it his personal goal to find you. He didn't have much luck with that, but he did find that cube." He said, pointing to the sheet of paper in my hand. "He was one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D. The cube has been in our possession for about a year now, but recently it's been taken."

"Who took it from yah?" I asked, the question poured out of my mouth on its own. I barely knew anything about this 'battle', but it was pulling me in like an old friend, and maybe that was a good thing.

"His name's Loki, he's…not from around here," he said, vaguely, but I didn't need any more information. I handed Fury the folder and began to pack my things back into my gym bag. "Things are about to get a lot weirder around here, Cap. Even weirder than you remember."

"Somehow I don't think that's possible, sir. I've seen my bit." I said, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

"There's a debriefing packet back at your apartment, that is, if you're in." He asked seriously, putting his hands behind his back again, staring me down with his one eye.

"I'm in," the words slipped out of my mouth with ease. There was a new threat in the world, and I wasn't just going to sit back and watch. I wasn't sure if I was starting fresh by getting involved with the Tesseract again, but it was what's right, and that's all I cared about.

…

I closed the apartment door behind me, flicking on the lights. I walked on in, throwing my bag on the couch, my eyes already scanning the room for the debriefing packet. For the first time in a month and a half I was thinking about something other than my old life, and I was going to run with it for as long as I could.

I checked the living room for the packet, but there was nothing but the crusting cup of coffee and Sunday paper I had left before leaving the house that morning. So, I ditched the living room and swung open the kitchen door hopefully. I walked in, casting an eye over the crumb covered counters for the packet, but there was nothing. Then, I looked over to the table.

There lay a small, stapled stack of papers and an unfamiliar looking device beside it. I walked over to the table and pulled out a chair, taking a seat. This had to be it. I started with the paper, taking them in my hands first and leaving the device to the end. I was hopeless with this time era's gadgets. I read the front page.

_S.H.I.E.L.D_

_Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division_

_ [CLASSIFIED; AUTHORIZED PERSONAL ONLY] _

_Avengers Initiative Debrief_

And that's all it said on the front, followed by their logo, an eagle with its wings spread wide, printed in black ink at the bottom of the page. I was the authorized personal in this situation. So, without further ado, I opened up the packet.

…

I read for a long time. By the time I had finished the entire packet and managed to get the device to work, the sun was already rising. I just sat there, numb from sitting on the wooden kitchen chair for so long, my eyelids felt like cement, fighting to just close for a few seconds, but I didn't let them. Not until I finished every last word. So, here's what I got.

Loki, the man who took the Tesseract from S.H.I.E.L.D., was from a world beyond Earth. Apparently his brother Thor had been to Earth before and for some reason him and Loki caused chaos down in New Mexico. Since that story was resolved, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't hear about Loki until the Tesseract went missing. According to the packet, Loki intends on using the cube to start a war. He wants to wipe out the whole race.

After reading about Loki's intentions my eyes didn't even wander off the packet for a second; there was no way I was going to let a war unfold in front of me while I just tried to move on with my life, especially not one involving the entre human race. So, with my attention fully devoted to the packet I kept reading,

To stop Loki, Fury had a plan. It's called the Avengers Initiative. What would happen is that S.H.I.E.L.D. would rally up some of the world's most trained and experienced individuals to come and fight the war; and there were quite a couple interesting names on the list.

For starters, there was a man named Bruce Banner. He was a scientist, an expert on gamma radiation and all that jazz. I thought he was pretty normal, until I read the rest of his bio. Apparently, Banner has a condition that when he gets angry he grows into this huge, green, muscular version of himself. When he's like that he has no control over himself. Trust me, I saw the footage when I finally got the device to work; not to pretty. The man's definitely got some blood on his hands, but isn't his fault. That wasn't the end, though. As I kept reading I figured out the reason Banner had gotten the condition is because of a serum, _the _serum. Yup, the same serum that was reason why I was sitting in this apartment and the same reason Marty was still breathing back at the hospital. You think people would've given up trying to remake it. I guess Dr. Erskine's was the only batch that worked….

There were a few more people. Including a woman named Natasha Romanoff, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Miss Romanoff had a long list of skills and abilities. She knew types of Martial Arts I couldn't even pronounce. I just couldn't believe that she was a woman, fighting, and she didn't have to cut her hair or wrap herself up to do it. There was also another agent by the name of Clint Barton, a master at archery. They both had some footage on the device labeled 'Budapest', but the file was locked. I tried to find a way to access it, but I could barely make a call on a modern day telephone, so I didn't think there was any hope of me breaking into a file of any sort.

The last person, but certainly not the least on the list was Anthony Stark; oh boy. This was really Howard's son, huh? He looked a lot like him, beard and all. Not to mention the same intelligence. Tony's list of knowledge and inventions didn't seem to have an end. He was most popular for his Iron Man suit invention, though. It was an amour, full of gadgets and weapons. I watched the footage and I don't think there was a thing the suit _couldn't_ do. Howard must've spent a lot of time with his son, teaching him all this stuff.

And to think all I had was that shield, but hey, it's handier than most people think.

After reading the last bio I could feel my brain begin to go into autopilot. The words on the page were starting to look fuzzy. Actually, everything was. I fought with my eyelids one more time to glance up at the clock above the sink; 6:00 AM. I covered my mouth with an open hand, yawing widely, and slowly lowered my head onto the paper-covered surface of the kitchen table. Before I knew it my eyes were closed and I feel asleep to the sound of New York's infinitely bustling streets five stories below my feet, and the smell of paper and ink.


	3. The Obviously Not 40's Hospital Room

_***Hey guys, how's your day? I hope you're well. So, here's number three, hope you enjoy. Once again, thanks for your kind words, and for those of you asking me to continue the story, don't worry. I'm not gonna stop writing; trust me. Oh, and if I don't reply to your review it's not that I'm a terrible person. Trust me, I read EVERY single review, multiple times. Sorry, had to say that; I felt bad. Okay, go read! -Noor xx**_

**Steve**

_"It's unfortunate, I was certain the serum had worked but it backfired. The girl is dead, Captain, but that is science I'm afraid…" Schmidt said, with a simple, little shrug. I felt my blood burn from underneath my skin. He was messing with me, to throw me off, distract me. There was no way Marty was dead. He kept her alive, he should've brought her on the plane, I left her the bandana as a clue…_

_"You're lying," I said, confidently._

There was the rapping of knuckles on a door, an unfamiliar voice, "Captain Rogers?"

_"I may be your enemy, Captain, but I can assure you I am a man of my word. Your girlfriend is dead. It's fact."_

_"No!" I said, not daring to believe it. I flung my shield across the room and at Schmidt's head. Any other guy would've been knocked out clean by that shot, but Schmidt wasn't any other guy. He had extraordinary strength, reflexes more quick and on point than most, and knew how to use it. Schmidt merely stumbled back. My shield boomeranged back into my hand. I was getting really 'pissed' now, as Marty would put it. She wasn't dead, she wasn't dead…_

"Captain Rogers," the voice said more forcefully. I shifted slightly.

_"Peggy, listen to me," I said, feeling tears form in my eyes as I took hold on the steering gear, pointing it downwards. I heard sobbing over the radio. "Peggy?"_

_"Y-yes?" She said, softly._

_"Marty's dead," I said, admitting it out loud. She didn't respond. "I know you can't get her body…" the plane was heading downwards now, gaining speed. I was heading for the water. "But Peggy please make sure she gets a good tribute. Marty was brave and strong. She was more than just any woman,. She was the greatest person I ever met, and the world deserves to know the real story. Please…?" I had about thirty seconds to the collision. This was the end._

There was another knock, "Captain, this is Agent Phil Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D; open up." I slowly forced my eyelids open, surprised to find myself in the kitchen of my apartment, my face pressed up against the surface of the table that was still covered in debrief. I slowly raised my head, my neck aching and stiff as Agent Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s knuckles met my front door again.

I stretched my arms, my muscles sore. I must've fallen asleep after finishing the packet last night, but what was S.H.I.E.L.D. doing at my apartment? I stood up and my bones cracked, making sounds like the Fourth of July, as Ralph would put it. I was completely numb from the wooden surface of the chair that was beneath me for God knows how long, but I shuffled my feet out of the kitchen anyway, trying to shake the painful flashbacks from my mind; I was even getting them in my sleep now, huh?

I yawned quietly and rubbed my crusty, tired eyes as I crossed the living room; I opened the door. In front of me was Agent Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D., a man I had never met before. He wore a clean cut suit and an ear piece, his hair was brown and neatly parted at his forehead, he smiled kindly at me with his hands interlocked sophisticatedly in front of him; he seemed very 'S.H.I.E.L.D.'. "Captain Rogers." He greeted in a clam, collected tone, extending a hand.

"Pleasure to meetcha," I said, shaking his hand.

"Please, the pleasure is all mine," he said, shaking my hand back.

"Come in," I said, slipping out of the doorway. He nodded his head and stepped into the apartment. "Fury didn't tell me you were stopping by. Is this about Marty Barnes?" I asked both hopefully and desperately, closing the door behind him.

"Wow, you two really did…I mean you and her, you were…?" he trailed off, smiling subtly. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in curiosity. We really did what…? But he said just shook his head, "Uh…no." he said awkwardly, "Miss Barnes is still out, unfortunately."

I knew the answer before he even had a chance to respond, but I felt the same sinking feeling that I got every time someone spoke that word; no. I felt my hope dim, but not fade. "Is there something else then?" I asked.

"Didn't you do the reading?" Agent Coulson asked, slightly cocking his head to the side.

"Every word," I rubbed the back of my aching neck, "Trust me."

"Good. I'm here to pick you up." He said, adding to my confusion.

"Why, where are we going?" I asked. The thought of leaving Marty suddenly popped into my head.

"Headquarters," He replied, simply. "I've been given orders to transport you to the Helicarrier. Other than a few other secret locations, that's primarily S.H.I.E.L.D.'s main center of comma—."

"What about Barnes?" I asked abruptly, not being able to stop myself. What if Marty woke up after I left? She would be alone, forced to sit here and read the Sunday paper all week and owe money to old, cranky men. I couldn't do that to her…

He paused for a short moment then said, "I assure you Captain Rogers, Miss Barnes is in good hands. We'll take care of her." He said in such a reassuring tone that I had no choice but to believe him. "You should go pack. We're on a tight schedule."

I reluctantly nodded my head, knowing that my options were limited. This was the right thing to do. I could feel it in my gut, the sense of duty mounting inside me again. It was the same overwhelming urge that once led me to enlisting multiple times back in the day. Plus, Marty would've wanted me to fight; I thought about this for another moment.

Actually, Marty would've wanted to fight with me.

…

**Marty**

My eyes slowly fluttered open. Immediately, I was met a light so bright that I winced, shutting my eyes instantly. I struggled to prop myself up on my elbow, forcing my eyelids open little by little to get used to the lighting. Then, gradually, things began to come into focus.

I was on a bed, covered from my shoulders down in a white cloth. Beside me was a small table with a glass of water on it. It was only then, as I stared into the crisp clarity of the water, that I realized how dry my throat was. I reached my arm over to grab the glass, but something pulled me back, tugging at my skin. I shot my head down at my arm. Injected into the skin of my inner elbow was a small needle, dripping a clear liquid into my body. So I was in a hospital, but why…?

Then, everything came rushing back. Suddenly, I felt a huge wave of feelings and thoughts flood back into my system, drowning me to the brim. Steve, Schmidt, Zola giving me his strange injection, the plane, New York City, _Steve_. I threw the covers off of me, ripping the IV out of my arm as I shot off the bed. I was dressed in nothing but a thin hospital gown, but that was the least of my worries. I had to figure out where I was, where Steve was. Did Brooklyn, my only home, still stand or did it now lie in cinders on the cobblestone streets?

I walked barefoot across the cold, tile floor and up to the door. I tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. "What the hell…?" I muttered. I turned the knob again, pulling harder, but still; it was locked. Who on Earth locks the door in a hospital?! Isn't that a fire hazard or something? I turned away from the door, my worries beginning to multiply. If the door was locked that meant that this was no ordinary hospital. This was HYDRA's doing. I was still their captive, wasn't I?

I began to pace, thinking of a way out, my eyes wandering about the unfamiliar, annoyingly white room. I could just kick down the door, but I wouldn't want to rub Schmidt the wrong way now would I? I walked over to the table beside the bed, taking the glass of water in my hands and downing it in about two seconds.

Screw it; I was going to kick down the door.

Wiping the water off my upper lip with my bare arm, I approached the door, ready to strike. Then there was a voice, "You're finally up."

I gasped in utter shock. The glass slipped from my grasp and fell to floor, shattering. I spun around, my fists already balled up, knuckles white. I found myself face to face with a man whom I had never seen before. He was dressed from bald head to boot covered toe in black, his hands were placed behind his back, and he wore an eye patch over his right eye to hide what looked like a nasty scar. I stood my ground, "Who the hell are you?" I asked, looking him up and down.

"I'm not the man who those fists are meant for. So I suggest you put them down." He said, cocking his head to the side, his eye landing on my hands.

I kept my fists high and ready, "That depends. Do you work for HYDRA?"

"I can't say that I do. Actually, I can't say that anyone does anymore." He spoke, walking around the edge of the bed. I scrunched up my face in confusion.

"What do you mean no one works for HYDRA anymore? What kinda bull shit is this?" I asked, impatiently.

"Miss Barnes, you've been a sleep for a long time," he said, vaguely which only made me want to punch him more, but I lowered my fists anyways; this guy looked like he had answers.

"How long are we talking?" I asked, seriously, "What happened to New York? What's going on?" I asked as a laundry list of questions began to form in the back of my throat, each fighting for a way out. I had no idea what was going on.

"Oh New York is fine. In fact we're in New York right now. And as for how long you slept…" he said, trailing off.

"Well?"

He sighed, "You've been asleep for almost seventy years."

I swallowed all my questions and instead let loose a laugh. "Seventy years. You okay, buddy?"

"Miss Barnes, take a look around you. Does this_ look _like the 40's?" He said in all seriousness, still eyeing me down.

"What?" I said plainly, and decided to humor him by taking a quick glance around the room, but then my eyes landed on something that made the blood drain from my face. It was the bed, but it wasn't any ordinary bed. This bed had buttons, and lot of them. I had never seen beds with buttons on them before. How do you even put buttons on a bed?

It was then that I started to notice everything else in the room. There was technology I had never seen before. From the bed to the IV drip to the machine that was once tracking the rate of my heart beat to the telephone that suddenly lay on the side table, wireless. It was like a Stark Expo all crammed into one room. My head began to spin.

My expression must've changed because the man in black said: "Now you see,_ buddy_?"

"No, no, no…" I couldn't put together my thoughts. I couldn't have slept for seventy years?! That's impossible. I rushed over to the window, looking down to the street. Were those _cars_? They sure didn't look any car I'd ever seen. The_ streets_ didn't even look right! "Are you sure I'm in New York?" I asked him, breathless.

"Positive."

Everything suddenly dawned on me. Seventy years of sleep…seventy years of the world passing by, advancing, lives being lived, the lives of people I knew, the lives of people I loved were already fulfilled and done with; everyone I knew was dead. I couldn't quite catch my breath, my heart was speeding at rates I didn't think possible, but did human's heart rates advance in the past seventy years too?

"How did this happen…?" I asked, slowly backing away from the window and towards the button-bed.

"We found you in the ice, and by 'we' I mean S.H.I.E.L.D." he said as more questions formed in my head.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, we're an agency that specializes in these kinds of situations. My name is Nick Fury, I'm a director." When I didn't answer him he just continued to talk. "Steve Rogers crashed the plane you two were on into the ocean. He did it to save New York; he thought you were dead. Apparently the serum that Johann Schmidt gave you was legit. His Super Soldier serum is the reason your body was able to stay preserved for so long. He was never able to produce it again, though. He died shortly after…" He kept talking, but my ears blocked him out after the part about Steve crashing the plane.

I sunk down on to the mattress, feeling the annoyingly white walls of the obviously not 40's hospital room cave in on me. My eyes were fixed on the floor as the same numb grief that once suffocated me when Bucky was killed found its way back into my system, shutting down my nerves, shutting down my thoughts. It was like my blood had turned to led, weighing me down lower and lower….

I was just a body now, a body with no date to Coney Island.

"He's dead…?" I could barely bring myself to voice. I wasn't crying, though. I couldn't feel anything.

"Miss Barnes?"

"No, no…" I murmured to myself, running my hands so roughly through my boy-cut hair that it hurt.

"Miss Barnes?"

I looked up at Nick Fury, a director, and spoke faintly, "What?"

"Captain Rogers is alive."

That's when the tears formed in my eyes. "He is?" My voice cracked as I sprung up from the bed.

"Yes, he woke up about a month and half ago. He's not here, though. He was recently shipped off to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters to take care of some…business." He informed, and with every word he spoke I felt my body regenerate. Like, when the power comes back after a thunder storm and you can literally feel everything burn back to life in your house; that's how I felt.

"What business?" I asked immediately.

He crossed his arms over his chest, "That's confiden—"

"When can I see him?" I blurted out before he could finish his sentence. He paused, giving me a disapproving look for a moment before speaking again.

"I'm not sure, but we'll send you word soon." He informed, patiently. "Until then, though, take this." He reached into a pocket on the inside of his long, black coat and handed me a silver key. I raised an eye brow curiously, taking it from his hand.

"What's this for?" I asked, looking down at the key in my palm.

"An apartment," he said, "Apartment 5C, building 13, 51st street to be exact. It's Captain Rogers' apartment, but since he's not here right now I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting you stay there for a while."

Steve had his own apartment? He was actually settled down in this new world, wasn't he? "I have one more question." I informed Nicky Fury, glancing up from the key.

"Shoot."

"Why did you lock the door?"

"When we tried to tell Mr. Rogers the same news we told you he made a run for it, injuring two of our agents. I didn't want a rerun of that."

"Good move," I said and clasped my hand over the key, holding it tightly in my grasp.


	4. The Girl Who Fooled the War

_***Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is a little late. Things got a bit crazy on Thursday. My family came over and stuff so I couldn't write. Anyways, I hope you like it, and thanks for all the reviews. Oh, and I'm glad I posted that sequel update thing on Lady America. I got a lot of my old readers back Okay, love you guys. Hope you like this one. The story is getting started! -Noor xx**_

**Marty**

I stood at the crosswalk, rocking back and forth on the heels of my new shoes. They were kind of tight on my feet to be honest, squeezing them in all the worst places; guess I just needed to break them in. I tried to ignore the blisters forming on my feet as strange looking car after stranger looking car zoomed past me. I had been standing there, on the dull colored concrete of the sidewalk for the past fifteen minutes, just waiting.

According to Nick Fury's directions, Steve's apartment was just across the road. So why was I not there yet? I wasn't there because the geniuses of the 21st century had come up with a transportation breakthrough; crosswalk lights. Yup, what a technological miracle! There was a crosswalk light across the street depicting a red palm, demanding that I stay where I was. If it was up to me I would just rip through the traffic. I mean, I was a Super Soldier now. Couldn't I just kick the cars out of the way, or did it not work like that…? But it wasn't up to me; it was up to that crosswalk light. So to avoid getting run over by a car on my first day in the 21st century, I just stood and let the new shoes blister my toes.

When fifteen minutes turned into twenty I sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through my hair. Then, I saw form the corner of my eye, a woman. She approached the crosswalk light beside us, pushing along a baby stroller, and did something that made me feel like Steve Rogers would feel on a date; clueless. She simply reached over and pressed the yellow button that had magically appeared on the pole. Then, the cars on the street came to a halt and the red palm was replaced by a picture of a man walking.

Then, the woman took her baby and just strolled across the designated lines on the road, as if it was the simplest thing on Earth. I picked my jaw off the ground and quickly crossed the street before the light had a chance to switch back. I felt rather pissed with the inventor of the crosswalk lights and quite frankly, pissed off with myself. I guess there was just supposed to be something simple about crossing a street, something that just made sense, and that fact I stood there for nearly half an hour, completely defenseless kind of ticked me off; a lot.

I slowly shook my head, pushing the woman with the stroller and the red hand into the back of my mind, and focused on the building that now stood before me. It was tall, about five stories high with the number 13 posted in white letter near the door.

"…_apartment 5C, building 13, 51__st__ street to be exact," _Nick Fury's voice repeated in my head; I was in the right place. Leaving the busy street behind me, I swung open building 13's door and walked on in. Steve was apartment 5C, so without wasting another minute, I began to ascend the staircase in front of me. When I finally reached the fifth floor I was greeted by a long hall of doors. I began to walk along the green carpet, reading the number and letter that were posted on the front of each door; 5A…5B…5C!

I reached into the pocket of my new pants, pulling out the silver key. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I closed the door behind me, and found myself standing in front of a sunlit living room. It was small, there was only enough space for a couple of small couches and an even smaller coffee table, but it seemed good for _one_ person. I slowly walked into the living room, trailing my hand over the fabric of the couch before taking a seat. So, this is where Steve sat for a month and half...

There was a nearly empty mug of coffee on the table beside a modern day newspaper. It was open up to the page with all the crossword puzzles and comic strips. I leaned over and took the paper in my hands, smiling to myself once I noticed that all the puzzles were filled in and that Steve probably chuckled at the corny jokes in the comics. He was such a dork sometimes, but I kind of loved that about him. After a moment, I stood up, tossing the newspaper back on the table and walked towards the inside of the apartment.

I advanced into a narrow hallway and turned the knob of the only door. I stepped inside, scanning the room with my eyes. There was a neatly made bed and a short side table; that was all. It was just a bedroom, it was just a couple pieces of furniture surrounded by four white walls, and yet for some frustrating, unknown reason I began to cry.

I thought the whole 'waking up after seventy years of sleep' thing had sunk in, that I was fine, that I was a strong woman, but I guess I was wrong. I don't know, maybe it was because I was standing there by myself that I realized how truly alone I felt. I was so singular, so solo that it frightened me. In fact, it freaked me out so much that my knees began to shake, even in their new Super Soldier state. I guess the serum didn't amplify _everything_….

I struggled to take in deep breaths as my tears brimmed. A sob escaped my throat as I sunk down onto the mattress, running a trembling palm over the soft covers. I was alone…everyone was dead….; I did a headcount.

Bucky, Howard, Peggy, General Philips, the whole team, Joey Brooks, Ste—

No; Steve was alive. He was breathing and healthy, but he wasn't here. So, that brought me right back to square one; being alone.

Without thinking about it much, I slipped the ill-fitting shoes off my feet and climbed higher onto the bed. I sobbed, throwing my head back onto the pillows and mattress, wishing I could drown in the comforters. I covered my hand with my arm as I cried. "It's okay…you're fine…you're fine…," I repeated to myself time after time, but I didn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth; it was bullshit.

I rolled on to my side, cradling my legs as close as they could come to my chest, and pressed my reddened face into the mattress. I drew in a deep breath, catching Steve's scent. It was the same scent I got when he had comforted me that day after Artie's death, when he hugged me that night in the snow after me and Bucky's fight, and I would never forget the time he fell on to me on the battlefield, that moment when I really just wanted kiss his bloody, injured lips, but I didn't. It was the scent I had grown to connect with safety, but I didn't feel safe, not now, not here. I didn't feel like Marty Barnes, the woman who fooled the war. I felt like a child lost a park, searching desperately, frightened, and all I wanted was for Steve to come, take my hand, and lead me back home.

I cried and cried until my sadness and fear turned into anger. I slowly sat upright in the bed, furious at myself for crying like that. I felt embarrassed, weak, and I absolutely hated feeling so helpless. It was going to be okay, it was going to be alright. I would get used to things around here, to this new age. I would….

I wiped the wet from my eyes and slipped off the bed. I wasn't going to cry any more than I already had, even though I kind of wanted to. I walked out of the bedroom, leaving my unwanted shoes beside the bed, and realized that there was still one place I hadn't seen yet; the kitchen. I made my way out of the hallway, past the living room, and towards the only door I hadn't opened; this had to be it.

I swung open the door and walked in. It was, like everything else in the apartment, pretty small. There was a short counter, a sink, a table; it was like any ordinary kitchen. You know, except the countless apparently confidential files that lay scattered on the table. I raised an eye brow, approaching the paper covered table; each sheet read 'CONFIDENTIAL' in big read letters across the top. So this was the "business" Steve had to care of….

Without hesitation, I pulled out a chair, took a seat, and got to work.

…

I read and re-read and examined and scanned over every word on every paper. All I could see, even as I looked out the kitchen widow, was black ink on white paper. When I finished, I realized that Steve had a reason to leave, and it was a god damn good one too; war.

That's right, war. A war led by some shmuck named Loki. He was from another world apparently. That wasn't the thing that sparked my attention, though. Because then I read what Loki's weapon of choice was; the Tesseract. I literally stood up from the uncomfortable chair with my eyes wide and glued to the picture of the blue cube on the paper. I thought they had destroyed it, I thought the Tesseract was gone, finished, but I guess not….

After reading that, I couldn't quite tear my eyes away from the rest of the packet. It went to give information about what Loki's plans might be that he means to start a war. The packet also gave detailed descriptions of the new team Steve was supposedly going to be working with. One of them was an expert on Gamma Radiation with a Super Soldier Serum anger management issue; Bruce Banner. There were a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with really tight clothes and some neat weapons on the list as well. One of them was a woman, and she was fighting in a war! I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and respect rise within me for Miss Natasha Romanoff. The other agent's name was Clint Barton, but he was supposedly compromised by Loki for the time being. There was one other person on the list, and he went by the name of Anthony Howard Stark; I couldn't fight a smile.

So, Howard _did_ get married and have kids? Funny, I would've never thought of him as a commitment kind of guy. Anthony was, according to his file, a down right genius. He had this Iron Man suit, a war fighting machine. It was pretty neat, actually. Definitely something a Stark could make. The file did say that Anthony stopped Stark Industries from manufacturing weapons not too long ago. I wonder what happened there….

By the time I was reading the last word and turning the last page of the debriefing packet, the sun had set below the skyscrapers of the city. I didn't know what time it was and frankly I didn't care. I was too busy thinking about other things, about what I had just read. There was a war brewing out there. Whoever this Loki guy was, he had the Tesseract and he was going to use it to spill blood, to conquer. Just like HYDRA….

I stood up from the chair and began pacing the narrow kitchen. Steve was out there, probably already suited up with his shield gripped tightly in his hand and an 'A' on his forehead. He was getting ready for a war, a war he would have to fight alongside a whole new team with a whole new enemy. I couldn't let him do it alone. I wouldn't! Steve was my friend, but he was also my Captain. I didn't care what god damn year it was or how long it had been since Johann Schmidt spat his last threat. HYDRA's fight might be over, the 40's might be behind us, but the war was still going strong and I was still a soldier.

I grabbed the debriefing packet and marched out of the kitchen, past the living room, and back into bedroom. I picked my shoes off the ground and slipped them on my feet. I dug into the pocket of my pants and pulled out a small sheet of yellow paper. On it was Nick Fury's phone number. Back at the hospital he said to call him if I needed anything, and right now I did. I didn't have a phone, though. So, I guess I would just have to use a public one.

With that, I walked back into the living room and leaned over the couch. I began digging my hands beneath the cushions, feeling around for some coins that might've slipped out of Steve's pocket. "Come on…come on…" I muttered, moving my hand over the inside of the couch. Then, my fingertips hit cold metal. "Gotcha," I said, and pulled out a couple of quarters, jingling them around in my palm. That would be enough, right?

Dropping the coins into my pocket, I sprung up and left the apartment. This time I didn't have to drag my feet along the old, green carpet of the fifth floor. I strode with a new purpose. Even as I descended the stairs I could feel the sense of duty and determination that started out as just a tiny spark, burn within me like a wildfire. That lost child at the park was left back at apartment 5C, and Marty Barnes, the girl who fooled the war, was now pushing open apartment building 13's doors and going to get her life back.

I treaded along the sidewalk, the coins clinking in my pocket, the debriefing packet in my hand. I walked alongside the busy street until I found the public phone that was just a block away from the apartment. Without wasting another second, I walked up to it, placing the oily, black speaker and microphone to my ear, supporting it in with my shoulder as I pulled the coins and yellow paper out of my pocket. I slipped the coins into the slot, unfolded the paper, and began to dial the number written; it started ringing. I stood up straight, dropping my shoulder and held the phone up to my ear with my free hand. Then, he answered.

"Hello?" Nick Fury said more cautiously than curiously.

"Fury, hey, it's Barnes," I said into the speaker. He paused for a moment before speaking.

"Miss Barnes is everything alright?" He asked, though he didn't sound too interested in the answer. He seemed busy, preoccupied, but it didn't matter; I had to do this.

"Everything's fine. Listen, Fury could you come meet me somewhere?" I asked casually, glancing down at the packet in my hands.

"I'm a little busy at the moment, Miss Barnes. Things are getting kind of complicated around here. If it's no emergency, then –"

"It's an emergency." I cut him off, and kept talking before he could talk again, "I'm a telephone booth about a block down from the apartment building."

I heard him sigh over the phone, he was probably rubbing his temples and shaking his head too, "Okay, we'll make it quick."

I hung up and began to wait, pacing under the dull white light of the streetlamp above. If this worked out I could get my footing back, I could avenge Bucky, I could see Steve. I needed Fury to let me fight on this team. As a soldier – as a human – I was supposed to do what was right; even if I had to break the law to do it. I ran a hand through my hair; its split ends still short at my ears, just a couple of inches longer than Joey Brooks had once cut it in the dim-lit bathroom of my abandoned Brooklyn home. As the memory of my long gone, blue-eyed friend began to eat away at my mind, I saw Nick Fury turn the curb. I put my hands behind my back, hiding the debriefing packet from view.

He walked towards me with, looking almost invisible with all the black he had on until he came under the light of the streetlamp. "Barnes," He said, greeted me with a nod of his head.

"Hello, sir," I said, with a small smile.

"May I ask you what is so important that you call me out here on one of the craziest nights at S.H.I.E.L.D.?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Crazy, huh...? It wouldn't have anything to do with Loki from Asgard, would it?" I asked, tilting my head to side slightly.

His eye widened, one eyebrow raised, "How do you—"

"Rogers left me a present," I said, pulling the packet out from behind my back. He stared down at the files gravely; I wasn't supposed to know a thing. "This is that 'business' Rogers is doing, isn't it?"

"Miss Barnes, that information is confidential. You were never supposed to see it." He said, reaching for the packet, but I pulled back my hand.

"But I did see it," I said, as he stood up straight again, glaring at me now.

"What do you want?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

"What I _want_ is in," I said, calmly yet confidently.

"In what?" He asked, but I could by his tone that he knew my answer.

"The Avengers Initiative."

He shook his head, "Nu-uh, no way," he said, just as confidently as me.

"Why not?!" I asked, defensively.

"Miss Barnes, please," he pleaded as patiently as he could, "You aren't an Avenger—"

"And Rogers is?!" I asked, appalled.

"He has training," he answered, making my blood boil.

"We both do! May I remind you_ that_ Rogers and I were on the same team, _sir_? We have the same training." I tried, but he was still shaking his head.

"Rogers has the serum, he has qualifications," he added.

"I'm a 'Super Soldier' too. Isn't that the whole reason why I'm here in the first place?" I said, shaking the packet in the air, but he just wasn't convinced.

"I'm sorry, Barnes, but we have strict qualifications, and I'm afraid you just don't fit them." He snatched the packet form my hands. "Now, forget about the Avengers and their god damn initiative, and go back home." He turned on his heel and began walking the opposite way.

I balled my hands up into fists. I couldn't believe this was happening. It's been seventy years since that day I illegally enlisted into the army, and I was still being told that I wasn't good enough straight to my face. I guess the world hadn't changed that much…. "Fury!" I called after him. He glanced over his broad shoulder. "I can do it. I can _help_." I said, firmly.

"Sorry Barnes, I have a flight to catch." He said, and continued walking.

I was furious. How could he say I wasn't qualified? I don't want to toot my own horn, but I did something no one else could. I was the first woman to join to army, to stand up and tell those bastards that I could do everything they thought I couldn't. Then I thought. If I did _all _that before, then I could do it all again. If Fury didn't think I had what it took then I would show him. I would march right up to Loki from Asgard and show him whose boss. No was not an answer, not with me.

I unclenched my fists; Fury wasn't the only one who had a plane to catch tonight.


	5. Fury's Flight

_***Woo, hello people! So, here is five. Listen, I don't know if I'm gonna be able to update twice a week anymore. My school has this new system where we have to take a quiz for each subject every week and it gets kind of hard to write with all the studying. I'm gonna keep trying, though. Also, I'm sick as f***k and didn't get a wink of sleep last night; at all. So, I'm just gonna update this and go to sleep, aha. Anyways, thanks for all your reviews, keep 'em coming! Love you guys and, as always, I hope you enjoy! -Noor xx***_

**Marty **

Sneaking on the plane of a top secret and highly trained intelligence agency is something I can't say I've ever done before, but there was a first time for everything; trust me. I waited until Fury disappeared beyond the curb before making a move. I needed to be sneaky, smart. I was dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D. here; they knew what they were doing.

Once the man in black was out of sight, I began to move. I swiftly my way to the other side of the street and hid behind a large reeking trash can. I slowly stuck my head out, taking a peek. I could see Fury again, and now he was opening up the back door of a shiny, black car. He ducked his head and stepped inside. Dammit, he was going to drive to his plane. My first instinct was to grab a cab and follow him, but that would've been too obvious. Surely Fury would see me, even with only one good eye. So how was I going to keep up with him…?

I thought, staring across the road as the car's engine fired up and the wheels slowly began to turn. I panicked, racking my brain for a solution. Then, it hit me; I would run. That's it! I would just secretly chase after the car. I stood up straight, stretching my legs for a moment as the car began to gain speed, making its way down the road. Without wasting another minute, I began to run.

I didn't realize how much I had missed the sensation, the weightlessness, and flat out freedom of running. Seventy years was one hell of a long nap, and even though I didn't really feel all those years in the ice, it was still as if I was greeting an old friend. I tried not to lose myself in the excitement of my feet moving nippily over the sidewalk, especially with the new Super Soldier strength, and tried to focus on Fury's small black car as it zoomed down the street.

I kept my eyes glued on the bumper as I ran, making detours and taking secret routes through dark, grimy alley ways and small, grassy parks as much as I could without losing sight of the car. Before I knew it we were all the way across the city, streets and streets away from the apartment, and the thing is, I didn't even break a sweat; must be the serum working.

When the car finally stopped, we were on the outskirts of the city. It was pretty remote, not a lot of people around. There was only a one way road, lined with dull streetlights, and a tall, glass windowed building that towered at least thirty stories high. I stood on the opposite side of the road as the car's wheels slowly came to a halt in front of the building. I could see the door beginning to open and quickly jumped behind the first tree in sight. I peeked out from behind the trunk, pressing my back to the bark. Fury stepped out the car; he looked down at the debriefing packet that was still in his hands as he slowly shook his head. Then, the man from the driver's seat stepped out, locking the car behind him as he spoke, "Everything alright, director?" His tone was professional and respective. I, on the other hand, scoffed; _director my a_—

"Yeah…yeah," Fury said absentmindedly, tearing his eye away from the files. He looked over at the other man, "Let's go."

And so they did just that. Side by side they entered the building through the large glass doors, and then, all of the sudden, they were nowhere to be seen. I cussed under my breath, moving out from behind the tree. I would have to find my own way around now, but how was I going to get into the building? I couldn't exactly just waltz through the front doors….

Fury was going on a plane; right. So, that meant that there had to be some kind of runway in the _back_ of the building. I mean, there had to be; this sure wasn't any ordinary building after all. I exhaled deeply, cracked my knuckles, and began making my way to the other side of the road. Seventy years asleep and the first things I do when I finally wake up is the one thing that got me into all of this mess in the first place; sneaking. I guess being places I wasn't supposed to be was my specialty, a skill of mine. Hey Fury, is that a good enough qualification to be an 'Avenger', breaking into your super-secret, highly secured facilities?

I quickly made my way across the one way road, finding myself planted in front of the building. There were a couple of really expensive looking cameras at the front doors, black and sleek, their gleaming lenses looked left to right, scanning for anything peculiar. Well, at least I thought they were cameras. What did cameras look like nowadays? I wasn't sure. So, just to be safe I headed for the side of the building instead, safely in the shade of the trees and out of the spotlights of the streetlamps.

I began steadily making way around the side of the building and towards the back, keeping close to the wall in case there were any more cameras. There were sharp pains in my feet with every step I took. They were definitely bruised up and blistered from all the running, but my ill-fitted shoes were the last thing on my mind. All I could think about was finding that plane, getting to Steve, and fighting this war; that all. I needed my grenades and guns back, I needed my uniform, I needed my captain, and I needed to do what was right. So, compared to everything else I was dealing with, a pair of shoes was pretty much at the bottom of the list.

I was only a few footsteps away from the end of the building when I heard a noise. The loud and deafening roars of engines and rapidly spinning turbines were familiar. I heard all of it before. What was it…? I racked my brain, standing still at the side of the building. Then, it hit me. I _had _heard those sounds before. In fact, they were last sounds I had heard before hitting the ice. Those sounds were those of a plane; Fury's plane.

Without letting another second slip away, I quickly jetted off towards the back of the building and to the source of the sound. Immediately I knew I was right about the runway, because now I found myself face to face with a barbed wire fence and behind it was a large land of cement ground, gray and smooth, perfect for taking off and landing. There were a couple rows of small planes, kind of like war jets but somewhat bigger, lined up beside each other, and at the very front of the rows was a plane a bit larger than the rest; Fury's. How did I know that little piece of information? Well, I think the fact that he, at the very moment, was ducking his head under the roof of the door and stepping inside might've given it away.

My stomach knotted up anxiously at the sight. I couldn't miss that plane, I wouldn't. Feeling the pressure beginning to weigh down on my shoulders, I tightly grabbed hold of the metal fence in front of me and began to climb. I heaved myself upward, positioning my feet in the diamond shaped holes of the fence as I scaled it. By the time I had reached the top, my hands smelled like pennies and the pains in my feet was getting hard to ignore, but I pushed it in the back of my mind and focused on Fury's plane which was now slowly beginning to move. I needed to get over this fence, but there was this barbed wire, twisted and tangled with gleaming, sharp metal points. "Dammit…" I muttered under my breath, knowing there was only one way to do this if I wanted to catch that plane, and boy, did I ever.

As the plane began to gain some speed down the runway I carried out my completely idiotic plan. I heaved myself up until my hands were just below the barbed wire. I readied my legs for the jump, bent them at the knees. Then, I jumped. I managed to get the first leg over with ease, something I could've never pulled off without the serum. My right leg wasn't as lucky, though. On my way down, the side of my calf got caught in the spikes. It dug deep into my skin, tearing apart the skin from my ankle all the way up to my knee; guess I was still pretty rusty.

I landed with both feet on to the concrete, a pretty graceful landing for someone who just got such a nasty gash. "Shit…shit," I muffled through gritted teeth; my leg was on fire. I had to refrain from clutching my stinging wound and forced my now teary eyes at Fury's plane. It was just about ready to tip off the ground. How in the hell was I going to get on that thing? I limped into the row of planes, leaving behind a trail of fresh blood, and hid behind the ginormous turbines, eyeing the aircraft. There had to be a way to get on…. I looked closely, trying to find an open door or slot I could slip into. Then, my eyes landed on the back of the plane. There was an automatic door beginning to close, rising up slowly. That was probably the cargo; oh, the cargo, such amazing memories.

I seized my only chance by the reigns. I quickly slipped out from behind the turbine of the stationary jet and bolted, my eyes glued to the door that seemed to be closing faster and faster. I sprinted, forgetting the shoes, forgetting the gash in my leg, forgetting the cameras that were probably catching me at that very moment and just kept advancing towards the plane. Suddenly, I found myself within mere feet of the cargo. The door was nearly closed; I didn't have a second to lose. Once again I bent my knees and leapt. I managed to get a grip on the edge of the door and let it take me up as it was closing. Then, before it had a chance to crush my spine, I slipped into the gap between the door and the inside of the plane. I fell to the floor and rolled onto my back.

I was out of breath, my leg was searing with blinding pain. I looked down at my wound, finally able to get a good look at it. It was pretty bad, there was some meat showing for sure, but it was anything a soldier couldn't handle. I just needed to clean it up and wrap it. I used whatever I could find in the cargo, which was some napkins and bottled water, to clean off the blood, Then, I slipped off one of my socks and tied it around my calf, knotting it tight. Once it was secure, I dragged my body to the corner of the room behind a couple of crates as the familiar sensation of the plane tipping off the ground tossed my stomach around. However, despite the fact I was in pain and bruised up, I still made it on the plane. If that wasn't enough proof to Fury that I was 'qualified' to do this then I didn't know what was.

I spent the entire plane ride in my little corner, lost in thought. Last time I was in a cargo I was handcuffed, a captive. This time I was a stowaway, hiding out with a purpose. I had come a long way since that night at HYDRA's headquarters, that night Bucky was killed, that night everything changed. The more I sat behind the crates and thought, the more I realized that if I never found Steve's debriefing packet in his apartment, I didn't know what I would do. If I was forced to just sit at the apartment and wait for him to get back, to deal with all this change alone; I'd lose my marbles for sure. I was kind of relieved Loki from Asgard decided to start a war. Before you start thinking I'm a terrible person, hear me out. My relief didn't come from the fact he was planning to take over and kill people; of course not. I was relieved because this war was giving me something to do, something familiar to hold on to.

For the entire flight I didn't have a clue where we were in the world, but by the time we hit the two hour mark I didn't have to guess anymore. The plane was beginning to tilt downward, preparing to land. To avoid having my wound gush out blood again, I thought it would be best to stay put until we were on land; I didn't want to fall over. As the plane gained speed, I could feel butterflies being to flutter in the pit of my stomach; I might be only moments away from seeing Steve again. Then abruptly, I was jerked forward and I felt the jet touch down on solid surface. I quickly stood up, exhaled deeply, and determinedly nodded my head; we were here.

Alright, now all I needed to sneak out again and…and…. Dammit, I hadn't even planned this far. I didn't know what my next move was yet, but I would have to figure out fast, because the door was opening up. I stood completely paralyzed cargo door slowly began to fall open, letting in great amounts of sunlight, making me squint. The more it fell, the more there was to see. We seemed to have landed on what looked like an army base. There were jets lined up all over the place, S.H.I.E.L.D. looking agents running around, and way beyond all the people and aircrafts there was water, plain blue open sea; this was a ship. There was so much to see, but the one thing that wasn't in sight, thank god, was Fury. They must've opened up the cargo before actually getting out of the jet themselves. So, before _he_ had a chance to show up, I hastily limped off of the jet and in the opposite direction of the man in black.

I made my way across the aircraft carrier as fast as my injured leg could allow, ignoring the strange stares and expressions most of the people were giving me. Their eyes would flicker curiously from my face, which I was keeping directed to the ground, to my injured leg, and then back up at my face before going back to doing their jobs. They knew something was up; they were S.H.I.E.L.D. after all. I tried my best to keep my gaze on my blistered feet and my pace quick. I glanced behind my shoulder and back at the jet for a split second. I could see Fury, not seeming suspicious in any way, step off of the jet. The debriefing packet was no longer in his hands; he wasn't worrying about me anymore.

I took this to my advantage, knowing that he wasn't suspecting me to be on board, and relaxed a bit. I took a good look around the carrier, trying to find somewhere private I could go to plan out my next move, to see how I was really going to prove to Fury that he was wrong about me, and figure how I was going to get to Steve. I scanned my surroundings, looking past the agents, the workers, and the planes. Then I saw from behind a couple of rows of jets, a short building planted near the corner of the carrier; it was probably the way inside the rest of the ship. Knowing there was only one way to find out, I began advancing towards the building. I approached the building and slipped through the front doors, acting completely natural.

Immediately, I found myself in a hall, which after exploring for a while, I realized led to another hall, and another, and…another. After every corner I turned lay an identical hallway waiting for me. I felt like I was in a maze, kind of like back at the HYDRA bases. After turning my fifth corner I was starting to feel like maybe I should ask someone for help, but I didn't know what to ask for and who to ask. So, I just kept striding down the fifth hall, hoping to find something different along this one.

I was halfway through the hall, my eyes still glued to my feet, when, all of a sudden, I accidently banged my shoulder into someone else's, someone with really nice S.H.I.E.L.D. looking shoes; I looked up. It was a man. He wore a clean, black tailored suit and an earpiece. His face was kind and calm. He had light brown that was neatly parted at his forehead, which immediately creased with confusion and suspicion once his eyes landed on my face. I didn't know who this guy was, but, by the looks of it, he knew exactly who I was. "Sorry, sir," I muttered, quickly redirecting my gaze to the tile floor and speedily began progressing down the hall, but I wasn't fast enough.

"Marty Barnes," He stated, not questioned, from behind me. I froze in place, feeling the blood drain from my face. I spun around and shook my head.

"Nope, sorry, wrong girl," I said casually, ready to turn back around and keep walking, but this guy wasn't convinced.

"Miss Barnes, you aren't authorized to be on the ship." He said confidently, taking a step towards me as I went through every curse word I knew in my mind.

"I…I told you I'm not Ma—"

"We have strict orders, Miss Barnes." He cut me off, taking another step towards me. They really didn't want me on this ship, huh?

"Who the hell are you anyways?" I asked defensively, my temper beginning to rise.

"Agent Phil Coulson, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you in for trespassing."

Take me in? I didn't know what the hell he was going on about, but I didn't have any intentions of getting locked up today. "Right," I glanced over my shoulder and down at the nearly empty hall. There weren't a lot of people around; if I made a run for it, I might be able to escape, "About that…." I trailed off. Then, before he had a chance to react, I bolted down the hall.

I looked back over my shoulder. Phil Coulson had his index finger pressed up to his earpiece and was speaking in a loud, assertive tone about there being some kind of 'code' something, but I was too far along the hall to hear. Unfortunately, that was as far as I was going to get, because then, seeming to appear out of thin air, emerged at least three bulky agents, each baring the S.H.I.E.L.D. symbol on their uniform. They basically ambushed me. Two of them seized me by my forearms and the other stood in front of us. I thrashed around, trying to get loose, but I guess the blood loss from my injury weakened me over the last few hours, and I was finding it hard to jimmy my way out of their grasp.

"Marty Barnes," Phil Coulson said again, calmly waking towards me and the guards. "I gotta say it's a shame we had to meet this way. It's an honor, Ma'am," He said with a child's smile. I raised an eyebrow in confusion, although I was strangely flattered at the same time.

"Uh…thanks?"

Without any further discussion, they led me down another couple of halls as agent after agent sticking their heads out from doors to see who the newest captive was. Finally we reached wherever it was we were supposed to be, because now the third guard was opening up a door and I was being led inside an unfamiliar room. Inside were a couple of chairs, a single table, and a small window; that was all. It looked like a prison.

"From now until further notice you're required to stay here on lockdown, Miss Barnes." Agent Coulson spoke in almost a disappointed tone. I couldn't bring myself to get pissed off with him, even though he was locking me up; he was really nice.

I huffed as the guards released me, "Lockdown, huh? So much for my indestructible plan," I mumbled, plopping down on one of the chairs.

"You guys can leave," Agent Coulson said, turning to the guards. They nodded their heads and marched out of the room, closing the door behind them. Once they were gone, he looked back at me and spoke, "Indestructible plan, huh? You really thought you could sneak into S.H.I.E.L.D.?" He asked, taking a seat on the chair across the table.

I sighed, resting my chin in the palm of my hand, "Honestly, yeah, I kind of did," I said, truthfully. "I'm kinda surprised I made it this far, though."

He slowly nodded his head, "With all due respect, Miss Barnes, so am I," he admitted, staring down at my injured leg.

"'With all due respect'," I copied him, "I'm not that important, buddy," I sighed.

"Sure you are, you're a historical icon, a hero," he said immediately.

"Really?" I half-laughed, unconvinced.

"Yeah, you and Captain Rogers," he said, the smile never leaving his face. When I stayed quiet, he spoke again, "I have cards, you know?"

"Cards?" I asked curiously, "Cards of whom?"

"Captain America; I'm a big fan," he said, sheepishly, "They're vintage." He stated proudly.

I couldn't help but laugh, "Vintage, huh? Just like me…."

"Just like both of you." He corrected. We were quiet for another moment, in which questions began to form in my head about Steve, about the Avengers, about why I wasn't supposed to be on the ship; about everything.

"Where _is_ Rogers, Agent Coul—" I began.

"Please, call me Phil."

"Right…Phil, where is he?" I asked, my tone hinting towards desperation; I just really wanted to see him….

"He's here, probably looking around the Helicarrier as we speak. He's only been here for a couple of days, so he's not used to it yet. Now you're awake, though. So, you two will probably be seeing each other once you're out of lockdown." He said casually, as if it wasn't a big deal at all.

Okay, never mind, I could get pissed off at him. "I can't wait. I need to see him now." I said, firmly, leaning slightly into the table, looking him dead in the eye.

He sighed, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"God dammit," I said, dropping my head. "I _need _to see him."

"I can't imagine how frustrating this must be for you two, but Fury gave me strict orders-"

"The hell with Fury!" I said a little too loud, but I was way past the point of caring. "He's the one who said I wasn't qualified to join The Avengers Initiative in the first place; he doesn't know what he's talking about."

Coulson's eyes were wide, his mouth hung open slightly. "How do you know about The Avengers?" He asked shiftily.

"Rogers left the debriefing packet in his kitchen. Guess you guys should learn to clean up your _confidentia_l files a little better." I said coldly.

"Miss Barnes—" He began in a patient tone, but he suddenly stopped, pressing his index finger against his earpiece once again. He directed his gaze to the floor, focused. "Yes…Germany…right. I'll get Rogers down immediately." He stood up.

"Wait, Rogers? Where's he going?" I asked immediately, springing up from my chair.

"We found an important location that we need him to check out," he said vaguely.

"You mean you guys found Loki?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest. He was silent, "From Asgard?" I added. He sighed.

"I'll send someone to clean you up," he said, gesturing to my wound before heading to the door.

"Wait, tell me," I persisted, limping after him.

"I'm sorry," he replied, "Really though, it's such an honor to meet you," he said for the second time before swinging open the door, walking out, and locking it behind him. Suddenly, I found myself alone once again with no answers, no information, and no Steve.


	6. Lockdown

_**You are now free to ruthlessly murder me into the after life! Oh gosh, I know this is late, but it just wouldn't work. It was like the words were just waiting there on my fingertips, ready to be typed, but I just couldn't form my vision or thoughts into words and it took me forever. I dunno why, but I feel like the story might be moving a little slow, but I promise it's full of action and romance and all that jazz. Maybe this isn't my best chapter, but I did add a couple of Avengers in it, though. Woo! **_

_**I know it's normal for writers to feel like they're loosing their sparkle sometimes, and that's kind of what's happening to me. I just need some really intense inspiration. So, tell me what you think of the story so far, tell me what you're looking forward too, what you think might happen because I kinda need the push. Okay, so here's another chapter of Steve being a sentimental dork and Marty being a stubborn, reckless little shit. Enjoy!**_

_**-Noor xx**_

**Steve**

The hot sun beamed down on my neck as I stared off into the never ending blue of the ocean. The water was infinite for as far as my eyes could see, waving and swaying as the ship swam along the foam. It was hard to believe that there was any land in the world at all from where I was standing, but I knew there was, I had walked on it, lived on it my whole life (not including the past seventy years). So, just because I couldn't actually _see_ any bustling city or radiant green patches of land as I leaned over the metal railings of the aircraft carrier, it was still out there, and I still believed in it.

It was kind of a funny way to think, but for the past couple of days my mind had only been working in these deep, thoughtful ways, and it had nothing to do with the ocean or land; it had to do with Marty. I rested my arms on the hot metal bars of the railing, dangling my head down so that I wasn't staring at the water anymore, but at my brown and creased, old fashioned shoes. I don't know where it was coming from, but I could feel it in my gut that she would wake up soon. I could literally _feel_ it, tossing and knotting my stomach up every now and then.

You see, Marty wasn't here on the ship. She was somewhere way beyond the ocean in front of me. She was on land in New York with her head rested on a lumpy, white hospital pillow. So, just because I couldn't see her didn't mean she wasn't there, and just because she hadn't woken up yet didn't mean she was going to sleep forever. Marty was closer than ever, even if all I could see was the water.

There goes that deep thinking again….

I raised my head, looking out towards the ocean yet again. When suddenly, I felt a dainty hand on my shoulder and a woman's voice overpowered the crashing off the waves, "Captain Rogers."

I immediately looked back, thinking stupidly for a split second that I'd be greeted by bright blue eyes and a short, brown haircut, but, of course, I wasn't. Instead, it was Natasha Romanoff. She was the female agent I read about back at the apartment, the one who was free to fight without a disguise and a wrap. We met yesterday when I arrived on the Helicarrier, but we hadn't talked since then. So, I wasn't sure what she might have needed from me. "Yes?" I said, straightening up as I turned to face her.

She squinted at the sun, nodding her head towards the railings, "You might want to take a few steps back."

"Ma'am?" I said confused, glancing back towards the water.

"Things are about to get a little wet." Just as she finished her sentence, the ship began to rumble violently beneath our feet. Personnel and agents who had been working on the deck were now packing up and beginning to move inside. What was going on…?

I held on to the quaking railings, doing the exact opposite of what Miss Romanoff had told me to do, and looked down into the water. As if things weren't crazy enough, slowly rising from the waves was a huge, rapidly rotating turbine. I immediately stepped back, facing the agent. My eyes were wide with a new realization, "It can fly." I said flatly in awe.

"That and whole lot of other tricks," She said casually with a smirk. The sudden gusts of wind from the turbines whipped her bright red hair around. "I'm afraid you'll have to continue exploring later, though. We got a location."

"Loca—"

"I'll debrief you once we get somewhere with a bit more oxygen," she spoke before I could finish my sentence. The Helicarrier was slowly beginning to rise into the air. She was right; it would be hard to breathe here in a few minutes. So, with that I let her led me across the Helicarrier and towards a building in the far left hand corner of the deck.

We left the gushing winds and rushing water behind us as we made our way into the building. "So?" I said once we were in.

"Since the day Loki fled after the stealing of the Tesseract, we've been searching for him. Until an hour ago we thought he was a goner, but we found him," she informed, walking a step ahead of me as she led me down the bright lit halls. I could feel the Helicarrier really start to elevate now; we were definitely in the air.

"Right, where is he?" I asked, wanting more information.

"He's out in the public, attending a banquet in Stuttgart, Germany," she said, casually. I felt my stomach drop at the name. Germany, I had bad memories there; real bad.

"Germany, huh?" I said ironically. She glanced back at me with a smirk.

"You're the best man for the job, Captain. No one here knows Germany better than you," she said as the image of Johann Schmidt filled by mind; red skinned, leathered up, leering at me with from ear to ear.

I gave a half-hearted smile, accepting the compliment, "So, what's he doin' at a banquet in Stuttgart, anyway? He sure isn't goin' dancing." I said, curiously.

"That's what we need you to find out," She said before coming to an abrupt halt in front of a door, making me stumble into her clumsily.

"Sorry," I mumbled immediately.

She merely glanced back at me before flicking the fiery bangs out of her sharp yet alluring eyes, and proceeding to tap in the correct passcode onto a panel beside the door. There was a high-pitched _beep _and the door swung open automatically. "After you," she insisted, slipping out of the door way.

I cleared my throat, took a single hesitant step into the room, and then froze in my outdated shoes. All my senses expect my sight were suddenly non-existent, because lying neatly folded and displayed behind a polished glass case in the back of the room was Captain America's uniform, complete with head piece, silver star, and, most importantly, the shield.

I stood there for a moment with my mouth hanging open a bit, my eyes glued to the contents behind the glass. I guess I was kind of shocked. I didn't think I would ever see my uniform again. It looked out of place, a part from the past just lying there among everything else that was so modern and new.

"If I'll be damned…" I said quietly, walking further into the room and towards the glass case. There was a metal plate with _CPT Steve Rogers _pressed into it. I took my hand and gently touched the cold metal, feeling the engravings of my name as my lips curled up into a smile.

I mean, sure it was just a name, just a uniform I had worn nearly every day, but it wasn't that simple. It was _my_ name etched into that metal plate, _my_ uniform displayed behind the glass of the case. It was familiarity, it was safety, and those were two things I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"How'd S.H.I.E.L.D. manage to get this?" I asked Miss Romanoff who was now busy tapping away at another passcode panel beside the glass.

_Beep. _The glass began to descend automatically, which reminded me of the windows in a modern day car (You didn't have to roll them down manually anymore. Can you believe that?!)

"The one you were wearing when we fished you out was a little worse for wear. This one's new. Same old design, just a few little changes." She informed, already leaning forward into the case. She grabbed hold of the carefully folded uniform and dropped it into my hand. "We don't have time to go to a different room for you to change, but I'm sure you won't mind changing here," she said confidently in a cool tone, already beginning to make her way to the door. "You'll want to hurry, Cap." She added as the doors opened up once again. There was another quiet _beep_ and I was alone.

I sighed and stared down at the simple piece of fabric in my hands, the star on the chest gleamed even in the dim lighting of the room. My mind felt like a war tank; small, suffocating, crammed. I couldn't wrap my head around any of this…I was going back into war…so soon….what if Marty woke up…what if –

I quickly shook my head, forcing myself to stop thinking any longer; I didn't have time to overanalyze today. I had orders and I intended to follow them through until the end. Loki was out there, the new Johann Schmidt, the new bully, and I had to take him out before we had another World War on our hands.

With a fresh sense of determination and duty spreading rapidly through my veins, I quickly unbuttoned my shirt, slipped off my pants and shoes, and began to pull on my uniform. Miss Romanoff was definitely right about them making changes. The original design was all there; stars, stripes, boots, but it felt different. The fabric was tighter, more durable, and a brighter blue than before. At first I thought the way it hugged my muscles so tightly was going to be a bit tricky to work with during battle, but after twisting my torso in it and winding my arms up in the air a few times, I found that it was perfectly stretchable and easy to move in too. I was surprised to find that the upper-half still bared the star and red and white striped as before; wasn't it a little too old-school?

I adjusted the belt, which had several pouches that seemed like they were meant for small weapons or grenades, onto my waist, slipped the shiny red boots and gloves on, and then pulled the headpiece over my hair and eyes.

Just when I thought I was all set and ready to go, a strange forgetful feeling suddenly began nodding at my brain. There was something missing, but what…? I looked around searchingly. I made a 360 and my eyes landed on the single content that still lay untouched in the back of case; my shield. I drew in a deep breath and reached my gloved hand in, pulling the shield out by its rounded, Vibranium edge. I flipped it in my hands; the air echoed off its spherical, lightweight surface. The front of it was still charred and damaged in some places from the battles before, but I was glad; the scars gave her some personality.

I spun it around once again and slid my hand through the handle in the back, gripping it tightly. Just the feeling of the shield back in my grasp was enough to get my adrenaline pumping, and by the time I had left the room, my heart was thumping against my heavily secured chest and my blood was racing; I was ready to report for duty.

The door shut behind me with another _beep. _I stood there out in the hall for a moment, waiting to see if Miss Romanoff was going to come back to take me to wherever I needed to be next, but I couldn't see a head of flaming hair or tough eyes for a hallway's length. So, I started to make my own way down the hall.

I quickly walked down at least three halls, getting everything from glances of curiosity to double-takes of confusion to gazes of respect and salute. I tried to avoid eye-contact with most of the agents passing by, giving a curt nod of my head here and a subtle smile there. I just didn't have time to chat. I had somewhere to be, even though I didn't know where that was exactly.

I turned yet another corner of the very HYDRA-maze-like halls of the Helicarrier, when Bruce Banner approached me. He was the Gamma Radiation expert I had read about back in New York, the one with the serum malfunction. I met him yesterday; he was a nice guy, kind of reserved and awkward too. He was called in by S.H.I.E.L.D. to try and find the Tesseract through its Gamma rays. He moseyed on, his head down so that all I could see was his wavy unkempt head of hair. He was too fixated on the pair of glasses in his hand, which he was wiping clean with the tip of his purple button-down, to notice I was even standing there.

"Doctor Banner," I greeted him, formally. His head shot up instantaneously. The shorter man's eyes quickly moved from the tips of my boots, over the intense blue of my uniform, and up to my nearly masked face.

"Oh, hey Cap." He said with a small, awkward smile on his face. "Sorry, I didn't see you there." He dropped the tip of his shirt and placed the glasses over his droopy eyes, "I was cleaning my uh…you know…." He trailed off, rubbing his hands together apprehensively.

"Right," I said, nodding my head. "Do you know where I can find Fury?" I asked him urgently, "I gotta be someplace, and I don't have much time."

"Fury; well that explains the whole…get up," he said, gesturing at me with one hand before rejoining both again. "Is this about their new trespasser in lockdown?" He suggested, cocking his head to the side.

I was about to answer 'no', but my curiosity beat me to it, "Trespasser?" I asked with one eyebrow raised, though he couldn't see it from the headpiece.

"Yeah," he spoke slowly, fidgeting with his fingers, "Apparently she…snuck on the Helicarrier not too long ago?" he said uncertainly, as if trying to remember if he was saying the right story or not.

"She?" I asked instantly, a billion what-if's popping into my head. There was only one "she" I knew who was crazy enough to into sneak something as heavily fortified as S.H.I.E.L.D….

"Yeah, she's just down the hall," he said, looking back over his shoulder and down at the door that lay at the end of the empty hall. "Why?" He added curiously, turning back to me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Miss Romanoff took the floor instead. "Captain Rogers," her voice spoke urgently from behind us. I turned around, greeting the red-haired agent, feeling slightly embarrassed for taking so long. "We've got to move quickly."

"Right, sorry," I apologized, forcing the whole thing about the woman at the end of the hall into the back of my already cluttered mind. If Marty was awake Fury would definitely tell me. There was no way he would keep it from me. He had no right, no reason to…right?

"Dr. Banner," Natasha greeted, leaning to the side slightly so she could see the doctor from behind me.

"Miss Romanoff," he replied, simply.

"Right, well we have to go." She said, turning on the heels of her feet and began to walk down the hall with me following close by.

We walked with a purpose, not talking or stopping for anyone until we reached our destination. As Natasha led me through the ship, the image of Marty sitting in that room locked up, defeated, probably think of the next way to get into trouble consumed my mind. I kept seeing her pacing back and forth, running a hand through her boy cut hair and letting loose her billionth sigh, itching to get her hands on her gun, on Loki. If Marty knew anything about what was going on in the world right now, I'm sure she would spring up from her hospital bed in a heartbeat, but she didn't know, she couldn't….

After striding through a few halls, Natasha and I ended back up at the door we had originally come in from, the one that led outside. Without hesitation, Natasha flung open the door and we walked on to the deck. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, a strong wind struck my face. I should've expected it; we were in the air now, we were flying. All I could see from where I was standing was sky, bright blue, cloud scattered sky. I raised my shield, blocking the wind as much as I could.

"Captain," Natasha called out to me. I peeked over my shield at the agent, her hair all over the place. "This way," she said, nodding her head in the direction of a large aircraft. It was large, metal, shining in the bright afternoon sun. It was smooth and sleek, with wide, flat wings and two large turbines tucked underneath them.

"Who's gonna fly her?" I asked loud enough so she could hear me over the gusts.

She smirked, "I am." Then she tucked her wild, red hair behind her ear and marched over to the plane. I quickly kept up with her, my mouth slightly hanging open in shock. I just couldn't believe it: One day women are sneaking into the army just to get their hands dirty, and nowadays they are wearing uniforms, calling the shots, and even piloting planes. I couldn't help but think of Marty. She did all of this, she was the first to enlist, the one who opened the field for so many other women. I just wish she would wake up so she could see it all with her eyes, so she could see that what she did didn't just get her into trouble or give General Philips a headache; she changed the world.

We boarded the plane. There was another agent there already waiting for us. He and Natasha speedily got all the controls ready, clicking buttons, flicking switches on the huge control board, putting on earpieces. After double checking that everything was fit for flight, Natasha grabbed hold of the steering controls, gripping them tightly in her hands, and soon we were leaving the windy deck behind and were soaring to Stuttgart, Germany.

**Marty **

I was idiot, a downright idiot. How did I ever think I would be able to get away with sneaking into S.H.I.E.L.D.? The whole thing was a waste of time; Fury still didn't think I was qualified, I wasn't an Avenger, and I didn't even get to see Steve. The only thing I managed to get out my "indestructible plan" was the gash on my leg; it still burned with pain, staining the sock around my calf with fresh blood.

I sat in my four-cornered prison with my head pressed up against the hard surface of the table, my hands dangling idly by my side. I squirmed in the uncomfortable chair, feeling angry with myself, with S.H.I.E.L.D., with the fact that I hadn't even gotten to see the one thing I really cared about, the one thing that would make the prickling in my leg vanish and the anger boiling my blood simmer down; Steve.

How could I let myself fall into all of this shit…?

Then suddenly I heard a _beep._ My head shot up just as the door opened. Now, walking into the room was a man with a black doctor's bag in his hand. My eyes immediately skipped over his dark brown hair, his kind and chiseled face, over his white button-down shirt, and landed on the one thing that interested me; his name tag.

_Agent Joseph Richards_

_Medical Division_

He opened his mouth to talk, but I spoke instead, "Phil sent you over?"

He nodded his head. His eyes, which I had noticed were a light hazel, found their way to my injured leg, "And for good reason, it seems," He spoke in a deep, professional yet friendly tone. "My name's—"

"Joseph Richards," I blurted, cutting him off. "I know I read your thing." I said more coldly than I intended, pointing to the tag that was pinned to his white button-down. I didn't want to be rude, but I was pissed off, and he was there for me to take it out on. He seemed taken aback, glancing down at himself for a moment before speaking.

"Right you are," He said, slowly nodding his head. He walked towards me and dropped his bag on the floor beside my bleeding leg. "I know who you are too," he pointed out, rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, revealing strong, tanned arms and hands, "even without a nametag." I stayed quiet with a single eyebrow raised, glaring up at him from my seat. "You're Martha Barnes, otherwise known as Joey Brooks, first woman ever to sneak into the army and get away with it," He informed casually, leaning down beside my wound.

"Nice one, Ace. You wanna a sticker?" I asked flatly, crossing my arms over my chest. I was fuming on the inside, absolutely raging. "What, did you hear that around the ship? Is everyone talkin' about the idiot who tried to sneak on?" I spat as he began to untie the now crimson sock on my leg.

He shrugged, "Well, they are talking about the idiot who tried to sneak on, but that's not how I know you – ooh, you're pretty banged up," he said suddenly, examining my searing gash. He grabbed his bag off the floor, unzipped it, and began rummaging through it.

"How do you know me then?" I asked curiously, my tone still on edge.

"I learned about you in school about 10 years ago," he said, "thought you were the most bad ass person in AP History. You were a woman too, which made you even cooler." He pulled out some gauze and a bottle of Rubbing Alcohol.

"You learned about me in school?" I asked, my tone no longer sharp or rude, but soft and high with surprise. How could he have learned about me in school? Did the world really know who I was…?

"Sure did," He said in the same pleasant tone that he started off with, despite my rudeness. "The book never mentioned you were kind of a…a bitch." He added.

I felt my stomach sink with guilt, my arms unfolded at my chest, my face grew hot with embarrassment. I didn't have a right to be so rude to this guy who thought so highly of me, who was helping me with an injury. I sat up straight in my seat, "Sorry…I'm just ticked off," I apologized.

He grabbed a few cotton balls out of his bag, pressed one to the top of the Rubbing Alcohol, and quickly flipped the bottle upside down. "If my plan to sneak on to a secret agency's headquarters ended up getting me escorted to lockdown with a screwed up leg, I'd be pretty ticked off too," he admitted, beginning to dab my cut with the damp cotton ball. I winced at the sudden stinging sensation, drawing my leg back a bit. "At ease," he said quietly, glancing up at me before going back to cleaning my wound.

We were quiet for a few moments, in which he managed to get all the blood off and was now beginning to wrap my leg up with the gauze. "There was a new location Agent Coulson was talking about before he left, something they needed Captain Rogers to check out. You know anything about that?" I asked out of the blue, but my worry and curiosity were getting the best of me. I needed to know….

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. His mouth was open, ready to speak; I could almost see my answers on his lips, but he just quickly shook his head and went back to wrapping my wound, "Nope, sorry; I just work in the Medical Division." He said nonchalantly, leaving me unconvinced.

"Joseph," I said, using his first name in desperation. His shot up, his eyes meeting mine, but he quickly diverted them back to my leg, clearly hiding something. "Joseph," I tried again, "I need to get out there, out on the field. I know all about Loki, I know all about the Avengers. There is a war starting out there, and I don't know if you've realized, but this guy's target is the entire human race, okay?" I tried convincing him, tried to make him understand how serious the situation was, how badly this could end, but he just secured my wrap, zipped up his bag, and stood up from the ground, still not daring to look me in the eye.

"Sorry, Miss Barnes, I don't know—"

"_Yes, you do_," I retorted, confidently, shooting up from my seat. He continued to just shake his head and started walking over to the door, but I wasn't going to let him get away, I couldn't; he was my only way out of here. "I can help—"

"Miss Barnes—"

"Steve Rogers is all I have left!" I said, slamming a fist of down on the table. He froze in his tracks, his back to me, but I could tell he was listening, so I kept going, "Everyone I knew is _dead_. If I lose him, I lose me." I heard him sigh. "I can't let him do this alone," I said, running a hand through my hair, trying to calm myself. He just stood, still speechless. I released a deep breath, pleading one last time, "Plea—"

"He went to this banquet in Stuttgart, Germany." He spoke finally, turning around to face me. His jaw was clenched tight in determination, his tone confident; he didn't regret what he was doing. "Loki's there, they don't know what he's up to exactly."

"Germany…funny," I said, smiling at the irony. Last time Steve was in Germany things got interesting.

My angry, exasperated mood had completely drained away, and I was now bursting with energy, adrenaline; I had a new plan. I was going to march over to Stuttgart, prove to Fury I was qualified for his Avengers, and finally see Steve. I left my bland prison behind me and began making my way to the door, swinging it open with ease, but I froze at the threshold as a realization struck me. "Wait, how am I going to get there?"

Joseph cleared his throat, getting my attention. "I'll take you," he said, coolly.

"But I thought you 'Just worked in the medical division'?" I said as a bubble of hope swelled in my chest.

"Well, that, and I might've taken a few years of Flight School." He admitted, shrugging.

I smiled, nodding my head; this was going to work, I could feel it. "Well then, doctor, let's go; we got a party to crash."


	7. Stuttgart

_***Hey guys! So, here's number seven. This is one's pretty long, I think. A lot of stuff is going down. I just wanted to remind you that this is following the Avengers movie plot as well as my own, so there is going to be times where something you read might be a lot like the movie. I do try to change it up as much as possible hopefully without ruining the awesomeness of the original stuff, though. I wanna keep like the really iconic quotes just because it'd be weird without them, but I did change stuff. Okay, I'm rambling...  
**_

_**Thanks for your lovely reviews on the last chapter. You guys always pick me up when I'm feeling rather low. Love you and hope you enjoy this one :) **_

_**-Noor xx***_

**Marty**

I was ready to leave Lockdown behind, ready to rack a fully loaded gun and strap it to my waist. Joseph Richards, with his miraculous wide range of skills, was going to get me on the first flight out of here. He was going to break his loyalty towards SHIELD and help me out, and I only just met him, like what, 15 minutes ago? It was odd, it was surprising, but I didn't question it; he was the only way.

I began to march towards the door, a strong sense of obligation and excitement rushing through me, but as soon as I took a step out of the room, Joseph grabbed me by my wrist and jerked me back inside, shutting the door behind us.

"Richards, what's the matter with you?" I asked him, puzzled.

"Miss Barnes, do you really think you can just go back out in the halls and waltz around like you own the place?" He asked bewilderedly in a deep, hushed tone.

"I—" I began, shrugging my shoulders.

He released my wrist and ran a tanned hand through his chocolate hair, staring down at the floor in deep thought. Then suddenly he snapped his fingers, "You need to blend in. They've got their eyes on you. If they see you around you're screwed," he sighed, "and so am I…."

I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought of Joseph losing his job because of me. I don't think anyone would want SHIELD on their bad side. "Richards, you don't have to do this, you know? I can get around on my own. I've done it before, I can do it again," I said sincerely, but with reluctances. I knew I needed him to get out of here, but he was a really nice fella and I wasn't going to let him get screwed over because of me.

He immediately shook his head, "No – I'm going to help you." He said without hesitation. I couldn't help but smile at his willingness. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

He left the room and the door shut with a _beep._ I stood there for a moment, staring at the heavy, metal door, wondering what on Earth he was going to do, what he was going to get. I should have gone with him. I needed to make sure he didn't do anything that would get him into too much trouble. I began to pace the room, despite the prickling in my leg, as anxious thought after anxious crept into my mind, throwing my nerves into a fit and my stomach into flips. I couldn't let this guy get into trouble, I couldn't….

Then, before I could think about it for another second, I stopped myself. I drew in a deep breath and reassured myself of something first before releasing it; Joseph knew what he was doing, he knew the costs of his actions, and I would just have to trust him.

With that, I quit pacing and instead ambled over to the window. There was no need to stand on my toes anymore thanks to the serum, I had grown at least three feet and could see out the window with ease. I stared out the slightly grimy glass and out at the sky. It was especially blue today, with only a few thin, white clouds scattered about. And that was all there was for as far as my eyes could see, just sky.

Wait a minute…. We were on a ship, there was supposed to be water out there.

It was only then that I sprung up on my toes, thinking maybe I wasn't high enough to see the water. However, even on the very tips of my toes there was no crashing waves, no white foam drifting along; just sky.

_Beep._

"Here," Joseph Richards burst through the door, a pile of dark blue fabric and a pair of boots in his strong hands, "I got you this uni—"

"Richards, are we flying?" I asked, randomly, glancing back at the window.

"Uh…yeah we've been flying for the past twenty minutes or so," he said, absentmindedly, dropping whatever it was that was in his hand on to the table. "You didn't feel the takeoff?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Guess not…" I said, completely awestruck. Things had certainly changed a lot since the 40's. I bet Stark dreamed of a ship that could float and fly with just a click a few buttons. I wondered what he would do if he was here right now. He'd have a field day for sure. I smiled at the thought of Howard, hair styled to perfection, beard trimmed, suspenders topped off with a matching bowtie, rambling on about how extraordinary the design and complexity of it all was. I shook my head, pulling myself out of my trance and diverted my attention back to Richards. "Whatchu got there?" I asked, walking over to the table.

"It's a standard woman's uniform here at SHIELD. If you lay low and try not to draw attention to yourself you'll probably be able to get to the main deck without anyone recognizing you." I grabbed the uniform off the table as he spoke. It was a one pieced, dark blue, heavy duty suit. There was a SHIELD symbol on each shoulder, a zipper down until the waist, and a few pockets. Also lying on the table was a belt with a place for a gun and other weapons. "Oh, and I nicked this for you too," he added, pulling a shotgun out of his back pocket.

I smiled at him, "Thanks." He nodded his head, seeming very pleased to be helping.

Without wasting another minute, I began to get dressed. I tore off my blood stained, white shirt and let it fall to the floor.

"Yup, bad ass…" Joseph muttered with wide eyes, nodding his head slowly as he stared at my bare tummy and only bra-covered chest. I don't know, but in that moment, with his eyes glued to my chest, looking like a complete guy, he reminded a whole lot of a different Joseph; Joey Brooks.

I rolled my eyes, "Turn around, Richards," I said with a sigh before unbuttoning my pants. He spun on his heels, giving me his back. I slipped into the SHIELD uniform, zipping it up to my chest.

It was very formfitting, but it was easier to handle that way. I shoved on the boots, strapped the belt onto my waist, and placed the gun in its holder. "How do I look?" I asked once I was done.

He turned around, scanning over me with his eyes, "You look like one of SHIELD'S finest. Now, come on, we have to move quickly." He said, walking over to the door. "Alright, I'll go down first so we don't seem fishy. When I make it about halfway down the hall you come out and start following me. Keep a good ten feet back just so we're safe. Once we get out on the deck, we'll board the plane and get out quick before they have a chance to shut down the unauthorized flight. Got all that?"

"Sure did," I said, taking in the plan. It was foolproof; what could go wrong?

"Okay, here we go," he said, opening up the door.

He walked out, keeping the door open just a peek so I could see. Once he was gone, I immediately bent down, looking through the slit in the door. I waited until he was halfway down the hall, then stood up straight, swung open the door, and began to follow him. I walked causally, keeping my eyes locked on the head of chocolate brown hair about ten feet in front of me. I didn't look anyone in the eye, didn't stop for any reason. I just kept a good pace down the white, narrow halls of the Helicarrier until we finally reached the deck.

I let Joseph go out first, waiting until he was completely outside before making a move. Once he was out, I approached the door with the outmost coolness I could show, and stepped out of the door, finding myself on an extremely windy flight deck. I tucked my dark bangs behind my wind-filled ears, losing Richards for a second, but then found him already climbing up into one of the aircrafts. I hastily jogged over to the plane, not hesitating to climb in.

Inside, Joseph was already seated at the front, messing around with the control panel. "How'd we do?" I asked with my hands on my hips.

"I think we did fantastic," he replied, glancing back at me with a smile, but he had spoken too soon.

A woman's voice suddenly broke out in the plane. She was calling in over the very high-tech radio on the control panel, "Flight 236, you are unauthorized for departure." Her voice was assertive, professional.

Joseph shot me a nervous look before turning back to the steering gear. The engine beneath us was beginning to rumble, nearly blocking out the woman's voice once she spoke again. "Flight 236, you are unauthorized for depar—"

"Jesus," he said, pressing a red button on the control panel, muting the woman's voice. He was really sticking his neck out for me…. "Grab a seat, Barnes." He called over the rumbling, referring to the empty seat beside him.

Without questioning him, I hopped into the vacant seat and strapped myself in. I looked over at Richards, his knuckles white on the steering gear as the aircraft began to move forward. "When was the last time you flew something like this?" I asked as the plane began to gain speed.

"I don't know…one, two, seven years?" He said with a shrug of his shoulders, but his tone was heavy with anxiety.

I quickly nodded my head, the plane zooming towards the edge of the deck. I let loose a laugh, staring out of the large, thick glass of the windshield at out at the rapidly decreasing gray surface of the deck. "We'll be just fine!"

Then he slowly began to pull the steering gears back, the plane was skyrocketing, my heart was pounding in my throat. Then, in a single, swift, stomach-flipping movement there was no more deck beneath us and the nose of the plane tipped up into the air. We were soaring in the vibrant blue, cloud-scattered sky on our way to Steve, to Loki, to Stuttgart, Germany.

**Back on the Helicarrier**

Nick Fury strode into the main Command Center on the ship, his long black coat flowing behind him. He looked passed the rows and rows of agent who sat at their own separate computers, earpieces at their heads, keyboards at their fingertip, each tapping away at their work, and immediately locked his eye on the woman who stood at the front of the room. Her back faced the director so that he only knew her for the tight, neat bun in the back of her head. "Agent Hill," he called out, "What in the _hell_ just occurred on the Flight Deck?"

At the sound of her name, Agent Maria Hill's head snapped away from the screens she had been scrutinizing, and she looked back at the director that was approaching her. "Aircraft 236 just departed on an unauthorized flight—"

"You let them leave?" Fury asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"They cut off our signal, sir. We aren't sure who's even piloting this thing yet." She said and directed her attention back to the two transparent screens, the man in black joining her.

"Tap into the surveillance cameras, then," Fury said immediately, staring down at the screens with his one good eye.

Hill nimbly tapped away at the high-tech screens, pulling up aircraft 236's information. A series of detailed and complex 3D designs and graphs, complete with full scale measurements and numbers of the plane's current altitude, speed, direction, fuel, and much more, popped up on to the screen. With a few more taps, Hill managed to pull out an actual live surveillance video of what was going on inside Aircraft 236.

They both leaned in slightly.

Fury looked down into the screen. There, sitting in the two seats at the front of the aircraft were two people, a man and a woman. The man, who sat at the pilot's seat with his hands tight on the steering gear, Fury didn't recognize. The woman however, Fury knew at first glance. She sat beside the pilot in a SHIELD uniform, which definitely did not belong to her. Her dark brown bangs fell diagonally, contrasting with the piercing blue of her strong, determined eyes. He remembered that gaze, even if he did only see under the dim lighting of a streetlamp. That woman, he hated to admit to himself, was Marty Barnes.

"Barnes?!" he said, his high-pitched and dumfounded tone turning most of the agent's heads away from their screens in curiosity. He just couldn't believe it. Last time Fury had laid eyes on Marty Barnes was back in New York, and now suddenly she was on one of _their_ aircrafts, wearing _their_ uniforms, going to fight _their_ wars. But how the hell did she even get to that far?

"Director Fury," Another voice rang out from behind them. Fury spun around to find none other than Phil Coulson approaching him, looking somewhat apologetic and uneasy.

"Agent Coulson, why is Miss Barnes flying away on one of our aircrafts without authorization – hell, what is she doing on the ship?!" Fury asked impatiently, pointing at the surveillance video of Marty on the screen.

Coulson sighed, staying as calm and collected as ever, "She snuck on—"

"Snu—"

"She somehow found her way on to your flight and ended up on the Helicarrier," Coulson interjected, continuing before Fury could lose his temper again. "When I found her I took her into Lockdown, standard procedure for trespassers. I was going to come right down and tell you, but then I was informed about Stuttgart and how I needed to get Captain Rogers." Fury was listening now, though his arms were crossed tightly over his chest and a vein in his bald head was bulging. Coulson however, carried on, "I left her and went to go find Rogers when I bumped into Agent Romanoff. After telling her about Miss Barnes, she went to go call Rogers in instead. I was on my way to come tell you when Barnes evidently got away…along with one of our own." He said, nodding his head in the direction of the screen.

"Who is that?" Hill asked Coulson, pointing towards the man in the video.

Coulson didn't have to look at the screen to see who it was. He was the one who had sent that man to Barnes in the first place. "That's Joseph Richards from our medical team. I sent him over to Barnes to tend to an injury. Turns out he knows how to do more than just wrap someone's leg up with gauze."

The two agents watched Fury tensely as he took in this new information. He looked down to the floor, releasing a long, deep sigh and massaged his temple with two fingers. He was going to kill Barnes once he got his hands on her, he thought. As soon as she got on the Helicarrier, he was going to ship her ass right back to New York, and this time she was going to stay there; he would make sure of it. He looked back up, his jaw clenched, his face hard, "I need another flight on Barnes' tail, Coulson. I want it to follow her all the way to Stuttgart, you got that?"

"Got it," Coulson answered straightaway, "but why Stuttgart?" he asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"Because," Fury said exasperatedly, "back in New York she asked to join The Avengers Initiative. Apparently Rogers left his debriefing packet in the apartment. I told her she wasn't qualified—"

"According to standard regulation she isn't," Hill interjected with a shrug.

"I know," Fury replied with his hands on his hips. "Guess she just couldn't take 'no' as an answer."

"Well, sir that's kind of her thing," Coulson said suddenly, a small smile curling his thin lips.

"_Excuse me_?" Fury asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She's Marty Barnes, sir, she's known for not taking 'no' as an answer."

**Steve**

I learned a couple things within the first few minutes of landing in Stuttgart: One, usually when a fella walks around with a pair of golden horns on his head that means he's bad news, and two, magical stick from different planet is probably going to win over shield. I learned these things the hard way.

I landed in the Stuttgart, and found myself face to face with a large crowd of people. They were all dressed in fancy dresses and well-tailored suits. I knew immediately these people were from the banquet Loki was supposed to attend. Then I thought that was probably why they were all kneeling. Every single one of them had one knee on the concrete, their heads bowed underneath the dark, star-studded German sky, shuddering with fear of the man who stood above them; Loki of Asgard.

He wore a long black and green leather jacket. His hair was jet black, the ends stuck up at the end, curling up at his heavily padded shoulders. He grasped a long, golden staff in his hand and wore a matching helmet with long, coiling horns sticking out of the top. He looked like a villain out of a fairy tale. He looked like trouble.

When I first landed, Loki was in the middle of a speech. He was going on about freedom, about how it was a lie, about how humans, our race, were made simply to be conquered, to be ruled. All I could think about was how arrogant he sounded, and it made my blood boil. I couldn't help but fling my shield at his head. It bounced right off the metal of his helmet, boomeranging back into my hand. His head shot towards me. He pinned me with his gaze, a smile plastered on his sickly pale, tired face.

"The soldier," He said in the same welcoming tone a host might greet his guest, "The man out of time."

"Actually Loki, you're the one who's out of time," I replied, adjusting my shield on my hand once again. And with that, the fight was on.

The crowd of citizens dispersed in every direction, yelling things in German I couldn't understand, running away for refuge from the fight. It was shield against his staff, which unfortunately, wasn't a very fair game. Loki was putting up a strong fight. His staff, which was glowing with the same bright blue of The Tesseract at its head, was more powerful than my shield. After getting a couple of fists in his stomach, a couple slams of my shield to his face, he managed to get rid of my weapon, sending it flying across the concrete and out of my reach. Then suddenly his staff was at my neck and my knee was pressed up against the cold ground, my head was bent down towards the dull concrete. "Kneel," Loki emphatically demanded from above, the sound of pure content and satisfaction hung heavily on the single word.

As I stared down at his leather boots, the tip of Loki's staff digging into my skin, I couldn't help but realize how much he reminded me of Schmidt. His tone, his sneers, the fact that he didn't just want one country under his control, but the world, all brought back the memory of that red-skinned man along with the pain he caused. I felt my insides burn.

"Sorry, Loki," I said, springing up from the ground, "but it seems we're out of time."

I clenched my hand into a tight fist, focused all my energy into my arm, and swung. As soon as I hit jaw, I quickly raced towards my shield as the demi-god stumbled back, giving me time to take the Vibranium in my grasp. I looked back up; a sneering Loki glared at me from his position, his free hand held up against his jaw. He chuckled. Then, with one unexpected, sudden movement he was pointing the piercing blue end of his staff towards me.

I quickly brought the shield up to my face, feeling The Tesseract's energy die as it hit the surface. I lowered it, peering over the edge. He was giving it another go. This time I didn't cover my face. Instead, I flipped the shield horizontally in my hands, ready to fling it at the green-eyed villain, when suddenly an unfamiliar voice broke out from beside me.

"Hope I'm not too late for the party."

I snapped my head to the side, finding myself standing beside a man in a suit. I don't mean a fancy, tie and coat kind of suit. I mean an iron suit. It was made entirely of red and gold metal, fitting to the man's body shape. There were small, circular white lights on each palm of his metallic hands with a matching triangular light in the center his chest. It was all topped off with a helmet, the same gold and crimson as the rest of the suit, with glowing, white eyes. It looked so complex, intricate. All the nuts and bolts were making my old-fashioned head spin. Boy, I bet Howard Stark would sell his soul to get a glimpse of this….

Then it hit me.

I read about this guy back in New York. He was the inventor, the one who had that circular device inserted into his chest, the one with the money, the girls, and the brains; just like his father. Standing beside me, under the gleaming suit of iron, was none other than Howard's son himself; Tony Stark.

"Let's do this without chipping the new paint, alright?" Stark said, gesturing to his shiny suit. "Put the weapon down Loki."

Loki let loose yet another shuddered chuckle, staring down Tony Stark with an icy, dark gaze. "I shall put my weapon down," he pointed the lethal end of his staff towards Stark, "When I am finished with it."

"You know, there is always a different method I could use, if you'd prefer," Stark replied in a casual tone, his voice somewhat muffled by his helmet. He raised his metallic arms, pointing them directly at Loki. Without clicking any buttons or saying a single word, the flaps of metal on the suit began to rise. In the blink of an eye, small guns and missiles had risen up from the metal at his shoulders and wrists, each aiming at the demi-god, ready to be fired. "Your choice, pal, but if I were you, I'd go with Method 1; wouldn't wanna have to dent your…antlers."

Loki's expression was suddenly drained. His smirk was replaced by tightly closed lips, and his razor-sharp gaze had lost its edge. He now glared up at the pair of us, defeat drowning out the confidence in his emerald eyes. He slowly dropped his weapon to the floor, raised his hands into the starry sky, and his helmet, as if by magic, vanished off his head with a bright, multi-colored light.

Lesson number three; magical stick from different planet may beat shield, but it was no match for Stark manufactured weaponry.

Or was it…?

…

We took Loki with us on the plane. He sat in the small interior of the aircraft, his hands cuffed tightly in his lap, his eyes flickering from the tips of his leather boots to the scepter that we had taken from him. His stick was leaning up against the wall behind Stark and I, the small ball of energy at its dangerously curved tip was still emitting that beautiful, hypnotizing blue. There was something about Loki surrendering to us so easily that made me a little uneasy. Why? Why after putting up such a fight with me would he just drop his weapon at Stark's demand? It was fishy….

I looked away from the demi-god and turned to Stark, who was standing beside me. Now that his helmet was off, I could see his face. It scared me how much he reminded me of Howard. He had the same brown locks on hair, the big, hazel eyes. He even had a beard, neatly trimmed on his handsome face. "I don't like this…," I said skeptically in a hushed tone, so that only he could hear. Stark, on the other hand, didn't mind speaking at the top of his voice.

"You're right, it was pretty embarrassing, for you I mean." He said, nodding his head.

I inclined my head, confused. "What—"

"You literally stood there for – I don't know – 10 minutes fighting the guy, and you end up short." He said, with a shrug.

Did he just…did he really just say that? Where did that attitude come from?

"Uh…" I began, hesitantly.

"Don't go so hard on yourself, Cap. It was pretty impressive, especially for such an older fella like yourself," he said so casually that it wasn't even causal at all. In fact, it was actually kind of rude. He cleared his throat and pointed a finger at my shield that was leaning up against the wall beside Loki's scepter. "She might be a little…worse for wear."

I slowly nodded my head, a sudden wave of annoyance I would've never connected to a Stark suddenly rushed over me. I forced a smile, "I think it worked just fine the first time around," I retorted, surprised at my confidence, but there was something boiling in the pit of my stomach….

"Right," he said curtly, "was it working just fine_ before _you sunk six feet into the ocean, or was it pre-Capsicle?" He said, narrowing his eyes.

I wondered how 'worse for wear' my shield would feel slammed against his rib cage, or his neck, or his skull….

I opened my mouth, ready to throw a bitter comment right back at him, but I stopped myself. I was supposed to be working on a team with this guy. We needed to cooperate, we were allies, and this wasn't a very good start. I swallowed hard, reluctantly forcing every dirty word back down my throat. "Fury didn't tell me he was callin' you in," I commented instead, not being able to cut off the edge in my tone.

"Yeah, well there are a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you," he countered, pinning me with a hard gaze.

I was suddenly speechless. What things was Fury not telling me, if any? I could only think of one thing he might have not mentioned; Marty. It was the same absurd thought that had fallen into my mind back at the Helicarrier, when Banner told me that the prisoner in Lockdown was a woman. What if Marty had woken up? Why would he keep that from me, though…?

Before I had a chance to keep over-analyzing, there was a crack of lightning off somewhere in the distance. Immediately, Loki's head shot up from its downcast. Then there was another crack, and this time we felt it strike the plane, making it wobble in mid-air. I didn't really mind the turbulence, but Loki's eyes were now wide and full of anxiety, darting around the room in every direction.

"What's wrong? Scared of a little lightning?" I asked.

"I'm not _overly_ fond of what follows." He answered, his eyes only landing on me for a second.

_Thump!_

The sound was loud and heavy on the roof of the plane, making me, Stark, and Loki all immediately direct our gaze to the ceiling.

_Thump!_

"Agent Romanoff," I said, "you have any idea what that might be?"

She pressed around on the control board, her face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm not sure, but there's some type of interference."

_Thump!_

"Damn…" Loki muttered with dread, shaking his head; he knew something we didn't.

Then, it all happened too fast. The door of the plane was suddenly thrown open, as if it was cardboard. In charged a man I had never seen before. He was big. It was like he drank Super-Soldier Serum for breakfast. I didn't get to catch a glimpse of what he was wearing exactly, but I couldn't help but notice the large, silver hammer that he grasped tightly in his bulky hand. The man ignored me and Stark's existence as he approached Loki. Loki, with cat-like speed, threw himself between and Stark and grabbed hold of his scepter.

"No!" I shouted, trying to stop him, but I didn't even get the chance.

The other man seized Loki by his leather collar, death staring him through the blonde, shoulder-length hair that was whipping in his face. Then, by giving his hammer a good spin, he and Loki literally flew out of the plane and into the black, stormy sky.

We stood in shock for a moment; so that's what followed lightning.

"Who the hell was that?" I asked Agent Romanoff, talking over the deafening, gusting wind.

"Another Asgardian?" She suggested loudly, glancing at me over her shoulder.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Stark said, already putting his helmet back on and heading towards the door.

What the hell was he doing? He couldn't just go off completely blind like that, without knowing who that man was, what he was capable of. We needed a plan. "Stark—" I began, but he quickly turned his head, the white eyes of his suit on me.

"It doesn't matter who he is, _Cap_. He's got Loki. If we lose him, we lose The Tesseract." Without saying another word, he took a running start towards the door, and just like a rocket, Stark was thrust off into the sky, well out of sight.

I shook my head with a sigh, hurrying over to the back of the plane to get a parachute. "I'd sit this one out, Cap. Those guys are from legends. They're practically gods." Agent Romanoff warned, looking over her shoulder once again. But there wasn't time for discussion.

"There's only one god ma'am," I said, securing the parachute on my back before grabbing my shield from the wall, "and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that." I slipped my hand through the handle in the back of my shield, ran off to the edge of the door, and I too jumped into the blustery sky.


	8. The New Schmidt

_***Here is eight, lovelies. This chapter finally has some action, woo! I missed writing fight scenes, aha. Okay, thank you for your creative criticism and kind words. I will be looking forward to hearing your opinion on this one. So, don't let me bore you with my irrelevance any longer, go read! -Noor xx***_

**Marty**

"Looks like it's gonna storm," Joseph Richards spoke quietly, staring out at the dark, cloudy night beyond the glass.

"Yeah, it does," I agreed, staring out also. Blinding lightning flashed between the grey clouds, a rumble of thunder vibrated throughout Aircraft 236.

"We're almost there, though." Joey said, his hazel eyes never leaving the windshield, his strong hands had been glued to the steering gear since we took off from the Helicarrier.

We were almost to Stuttgart; I couldn't believe it. Maybe, if things worked out the way I planned, Fury would see that I was good enough to be on this team. I would get to avenge my brother, I would get to be a soldier again, I would get to see Steve, and it was all because of Joseph Richards.

"You know," I broke out after a short silence, "I had a friend named Joseph once. Of course, I called him Joey, but yeah."

"Really?" He said, intrigued. "What happened to him?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but then the realization suddenly slapped me in the face, and I forgot how to talk.

Joseph awkwardly cleared his throat. "Sorry….I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories or something," he said apologetically, his eyes flickering towards my face for a second.

I shook my head, "No, no, it's not that. It's just…I don't know what happened to him. For all I know he could still be alive?" A bubble of hope swelled in my chest at the thought.

The brunette smiled subtly, "Could be…. Was he a nice guy?"

"Sure, he was nice in weird ways." I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Joey was sorta sketchy; he hung out on the streets all the time. I never told my brother about him, I knew he'd think Joey was bad news, but I liked him. So, we hung out, did each other favors." I smiled, and looked over at Joseph, "He did me a pretty big favor once, kinda like what you're doin' for me right now. Thanks, by the way."

He shrugged, "No problem." He glanced at me, still smiling, "What did he do for you?"

I sighed, staring out the window. "He got me into the army." Just as I said it, something down below us twinkled. Its light was bright and shiny, seeping through the darkness of the clouds, like a diamond in a mine. "What…what is that?" I whispered, slowly standing up from my seat, looking down at the foggy Earth below the aircraft.

"What's wrong, what do you see?" Joseph asked anxiously.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a better look. Then there was that twinkle again, that sparkle through the storm. With one strong gust of wind, the clouds were swept away from my vision, and I had a clear view of what had previously caught my eye. It was a scepter, golden and perfect even through the blurry, wet windshield of the plane. I wasn't nearly as interested in the scepter as I was in the person holding it, though. The man was tall and pale, jet black hair, with the words 'villain' written right across his forehead. He was standing on a cliff side down below. It was Loki of Asgard and he was my new destination.

"I have to get off," I said simply, turning around and rushing to the back of the plan to fetch a parachute.

"What?!" Joseph asked, frantically. "What do you mean you're getting off? This isn't some cab, Barnes. This is a plane."

"Loki's down there on the cliff," I called back at him, strapping the parachute to my back and securing it. "We can forget Stuttgart, I found who I needed to find."

"Well, at least let me land the plane!" Joseph said, bewildered.

"That'll take too long, pal. I gotta do this now," I said shaking my head, walking over to the door of the plane and pressing the button to open it. The door slowly began to descend, letting in strong winds and rain.

"BARNES GET BACK HERE!" Joseph cried from inside the plane.

I didn't stop, though; I couldn't. I was too close to my goal to let the wind blow it out of my reach. I was Marty Barnes, the woman that fooled the war, and now I was fooling Fury.

"Wish me luck!" I said ignoring him, my mind set.

I clenched the straps of the backpack as tightly as could in my hands, drew in a deep breath, and leapt forward into the storm. The rain violently smacked against my face, blinding me every few seconds. Lightning struck and thunder roared all around me as I dropped through the clouds. The wind was bursting through my ears and gusting into my head, blowing away every little thought in my mind but one; remember to eject the parachute, you dumb ass!

I could see the surface of the mountain more clearly now; rough and rugged with sharp rocks. Without risking another second, I grabbed hold of the slippery parachute handle and tugged. I could feel a weight lifted off my back, and suddenly I was jerked upward into the air. I looked up at the parachute. It swooshed and shook in the state of the storm, but it managed to finally get my feet planted where I needed to be.

As soon as my feet hit the stone, I tore off the backpack and threw it to the ground. I hid behind a glistening boulder, pressing my back up against its cold surface as I slowly peered out at the demi-god. I could only see the back of his wet, leather jacket, and his greasy black hair. He was beginning to walk away. He had one hand on his hip, as if he had been recently injured, and the other was clenched firmly around a golden scepter, looking beautiful with its shining curves and designs, but also lethal with the painfully recognizable blue hue of The Tesseract's energy emitting form its tip. This was the new Schmidt and this was my cue.

Lightning lit up the cliff as I slipped out from behind the boulder. I pulled the gun out from the belt at my waist. I racked it back; the sound echoed out louder than the thunder, louder than the rain, and it made Loki stopped in his tracks. I pointed my gun at his gleaming back, "Nice jacket," I spoke over the downpour.

Loki spun around on the heels of his leather boots. His eyes were strikingly green, but strangely innocent, like a child. He flashed me a white, sneer of a smile, "Why, thank you," he spoke in a polite voice, his eyes scanned over me intriguingly, "it's one of a kind, you see."

I nodded my head, my gun aimed at his chest, "Neat, so am I." I said, confidently. He raised his eyebrows, a look of pleasant surprise spread across his mysterious face.

"And who might you be, mortal?" He asked, inclining his head.

"Marty Barnes, you son of a bitch, and don't you forget it."

He chuckled, walking towards me, "Oh, you have spirit!" he almost whispered, narrowing his eyes. He slowly began to circle me, the thunder rolled above us. "Marty Barnes…yes you are one of a kind, aren't you?" I could feel his breath on my neck.

"Sure am. You're pretty special yourself, so I've read." I said, following him with my eyes.

"Ah…" He said, "What is it you read, Marty Barnes?"

"Oh, just a couple of pages about how you're a complete nut-bag, nothin' much," I said, shrugging. "The entire human race, huh? That's a_ whole _lot of people to take out."

"I do not wish to kill them," he said, stopping right in front of me. He looked me dead in the eye, "I wish to rule them."

"Rule them, right," I took my gun and aimed it at his stomach, pressing it up against the heavy leather of his jacket, "Well, I'm afraid world domination's gotta wait, pal."

He glanced down at the gun, rain streaming down his pale, sickly face, and chuckled again, "You SHIELD persons are rather funny, I must say."

"We'll see who's laughing when you're the one wearing handcuffs." I said, keeping my face still and my tone assertive. "I'm not here to play games with you, Loki."

"That's a shame…" he said, pushing the gun away from his stomach. "Because I have the nicest idea for a game," He said, intriguingly.

I sighed and lowered my gun; it looked like this wasn't going to be easy. If I was going to get out of here with Loki, I had to play by his rules; for now. "Do tell," I said.

He smiled, "It needn't be a game if that term irks you. Consider it a…wager."

I folded my arms over my chest, "What exactly are we wagering?"

"We fight it out. You get a hold of this," Loki said, raising his scepter up in the air, "then I come to SHIELD with you."

I raised my weapon once again, ready to go. "Alright let's do it—"

"You are eager, I like it, but alas there are two sides to a wager, are there not?" He said, shaking his head. "You get my scepter, you win. If I get your gun, however, you come with me."

I felt my stomach shift uneasily. What would someone like Loki want with me? I thought it through for another second, and realized, how hard could it be to grab some stick? "Deal," I said, and didn't waste another second talking.

The fight was on. I know I hadn't used a gun in a while, but it was as if it was only yesterday that Steve and I were fighting alongside the team, and the shotgun was like an old friend, fitting snugly in my grasp. I either had to injure Loki or knock him out, not kill him. I needed him back at SHIELD alive to prove my point. I tried to shoot at him a couple of time, but his scepter, I seemed to have forgotten, wielded the power of the weapon that once destroyed my life; it wasn't going to be easy. Loki blocked every bullet I shot at him. As soon as the tip of his scepter was pointed at me, I dove behind my boulder, but suddenly Loki was standing in front of me, materializing form thin air like magic. "What the hell?!" I said, shooting up from the stones.

Loki flipped his scepter with crazy speed, hitting the golden end of it against my cheekbones. My face hit the boulder, pain spreading to every bone in my face, but there was very little blood. If I had gotten a blow like that before the serum, I would've been knocked unconscious for sure. I turned to Loki, raising my gun, but with ease, maybe a little too much ease, he managed to knock it out of my hand and send it flying across the slippery surface of the mountain cliff. I watched with wide eyes as it skidded all the way to the edge and fall down into the storm.

I turned back to Loki, unarmed. I would have to rely on a new weapon; my body. I clenched my hands up into fists. I swung at the demi-god, whose scepter was still coming in handy here, but as I struck and threw and jabbed, his dodging technique was becoming repetitive. That is until I threw my last punch, aiming for the wrong place. I tried to get him in the gut, but with my hand being so low, my face and my neck were vulnerable. Loki seized his opportunity and forced his scepter up against my neck, pinning me to the floor.

My back crashed against the stone, the breath was knocked out of my lungs. Loki hovered over me, pressing the hard golden rod against my throat. I thrashed and gasped for air, trying to pry him off of me, but he was from another planet, and was just as strong as any Super-Soldier. "It does not seem, Barnes, that the odds are in your favor this evening," he said, baring white teeth as he jeered.

I looked up into the dark sky, seeing the rain pour from an angle I wasn't used to. I wasn't going to give up here. I couldn't let him win. I needed to do this for me, for Steve, for the world. The thunder rumbled in my chest as I brought up my leg, kneeing Loki as hard as I could in his stomach. He seemed taken aback, but kept a firm grip on the scepter. I was really starting to struggle for air now. I seized the bar on my neck, and pushed it up, with all my force towards Loki. I brought my knee up, sinking it in his stomach again. He grunted in pain. I could feel the muscles in my arm contract in ways they never had before, my body was burning.

I finally managed to get the scepter off my throat, but here's what really wiped the smirk off Loki's face. I brought the scepter up to Loki this time, pinning it against his pale neck. I leaned over him, strangling him with his own weapon. "Looks like the odds changed their mind, wouldn't you think?" I said, talking over the rain. Loki tried to pry my fingers off, but it was use. It was feeling a strength I had never experienced before, and I couldn't stop now. I tore the scepter off his throat, keeping it tightly in my grasp as I placed a foot on his chest, holding him down. I flipped the staff in my hand and aimed the lethal end at Loki's neck, the blue light of The Tesseract glistening on his rain covered face, the sharp curve at the tip digging into his skin slightly. "I win," I said, my voice hard.

Loki smirked, "Fair and square…."

"MARTY!"

It felt like I had been thrown up against the boulder again, because suddenly I couldn't breathe. That voice…. I could put a face to that voice in a split-second. It was that voice of safety I was talking about. You know, that one that made me feel at home, that made me feel like everything was going to work out right. It was the voice of my captain, and he was calling out to me.

"MARTY!"

I spun my head around, searching desperately for his face, my heart pounding in my throat so loud that I could barely hear the thunder grumble from above.

"Should've known you would know the soldier," Loki said, smiling up at me.

"I'm his friend, a very good friend," I said, looking back at Loki only for a second.

"Oh, so you're both out of time…how sweet—"

Suddenly I was pressing my leg as hard as I could on to Loki's chest, nearly piercing his skin the razor sharp end of his scepter. "Where is he?!" I think I yelled, I wasn't sure, there was so much noise. Loki knew things, knew things I didn't.

"He's . Down. There," he managed to get out, squirming in pain as he pointed to a forest below the cliff.

I immediately looked down at the foliage. Down, between a mess of fallen trees and branches was a man in a red and gold suit, another man with long blonde hair and a hammer in his hand, and a third man wearing a red, white, and blue star spangled suit. He looked up at me and I could see the smile on his face even from all the way up on the cliff. "STEVE!" I called out, feeling my stomach flip and knot and twist. I missed him…I missed that bastard so much.

I wanted to go to him, I wanted to see him up close, but another voice broke out. "Miss Barnes," Phil Coulson greeted from behind me. I spun around, keeping the scepter in my hands, but took my foot off Loki. "Phil," I said, wide-eyed.

"Miss Barnes, I'd hate to do this, but you're going to have to come with us." He said just as two men came up from behind me with handcuffs.

"Dammit," I said, letting them lock me up.

A few other SHIELD personnel came. One took the scepter out of my hands and the other set Loki up with his own pair of handcuffs. Loki glanced at me as they secured his chains and smirked, "I suppose it was a tie, then?" And they escorted him off to an aircraft.

"Come on, Miss Barnes—" Coulson began, but I couldn't help myself.

"Phil, please, Rogers is down there—"

"Don't worry; we'll get him to safety."

"No, not that," I cried, "I want to see him!"

"Sorry, Miss Barnes, this is standard procedure."

"Screw procedure!" I said as they dragged me off to a separate aircraft, "Coulson, please—"

"I'm sorry," and that was the last thing he said on the subject.

…

I asked a lot of questions on the plane ride. I asked about what happened in Stuttgart, why Steve and those other two men were down in the forest, what would happen to Joseph, what would happen to me. This is what I got.

Steve was sent to Stuttgart and fought Loki at some banquet. After some help from Anthony Stark, Howard's son, they managed to get Loki up on an aircraft. They were planning to head to SHIELD when the third man, Thor, the one with the hammer and also Loki's brother, barged into the plane, I don't see how that's possible but okay, and stole Loki away from them along with his scepter. Somehow, Thor and Anthony got into a fight and Steve went to go stop them. While that was happening, Loki tried to escape with his weapon, but then I came along. As for what happens to Joseph, Coulson said he'd probably be sworn to secrecy and then given the slip; I felt like shit.

Me, I was going to have a talk with Fury and then be shipped off to New York. However, even with everything that had just happened, I still felt accomplished. If it wasn't for me, Loki might've gotten away, armed. I stopped him, I got his weapon, and if Fury was anything less than thankful then I was going to be pissed as hell.

…

I shifted on the uncomfortable metal chair, fidgeting around with the handcuffs. One handcuff was locked on to my wrist and the other was locked around the leg of the table, preventing me from escaping…again. I felt like I was in a prison, and I've been in a prison before; trust me. The only thing that kept reminding me that I was now on the Helicarrier was the one large window in the room, and the endless clear, blue sky that was beyond it. Yup, you guessed it. I was back in Lockdown.

I sighed deeply, dropping my head onto the table, feeling my stomach sink.

I was so close to seeing Steve again….

_Beep._

The door swung open and Nick Fury marched into the room. I sat up straight in my seat, preparing myself for whatever crap he was going to throw at me. "Miss Barnes," The man in black greeted, the door shutting behind him.

I looked up at Fury, having to strain my neck thanks to the handcuffs, "Nicholas, hey pal," I said casually with a smile. He raised an eye brow, clearly not amused. "Do you prefer 'Nick'? I'll just call yah Nick—"

"Does it look like I'm playing games with you Barnes?" He snapped suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sorry, sir," I said, shaking my head. Gosh, it was fun to mess with Fury. I could see him open his mouth to speak again, but I couldn't resist the urge to push his buttons one more time, "Sorry, sir, but could you sit down. My neck's starting to hurt so…" I said jingling my handcuffs.

He rolled his eye and pulled out the chair in front of me, taking a seat. He stared me down for what seemed like forever, his one good eye judging me. Then, he finally spoke. "What the hell—" He began. I sighed, dropping my head slightly as he continued, "— do you not comprehend from 'You are _not_ qualified'?"

There was no question about it; he was pissed. He had no reason to be, though. I just stopped his bad guy from getting away.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, running my free hand through my hair that was still damp from the rain. "You know what I didn't get, _sir_; the 'not' part." I said. He shook his head, leaning back in his chair, but I kept going, "Why not, huh? I'm just as strong as the last guy, maybe even stronger, and I know I'm faster."

"Miss Barnes, you need a set list of skills and abilities," he retorted, "and the only skill you seem to have is pissing me off."

"Are you for real?!" I exclaimed, "You don't need a list of skills; I just gave you a demonstration out there. I got you Loki when the rest of your _qualified Avengers _were busy fighting _each other_."

"You sneak onto my ship, get one of my men on your side, and you take one of my aircrafts on a joy ride! Why are so keen to be part of the Avengers Initiative anyways?" He asked, and my answer couldn't have slipped out easier.

"Because I have something to Avenge!"

I could see words on Fury's lips, but he sighed, suddenly falling silent.

"My life was taken from me, and this whole fucking mess leads back to that cube, the goddamn Tesseract." I kept going, feeling my blood boil and hands clench. "I didn't ask to be frozen for seventy years. I didn't ask to be here at all, but unfortunately, that how things worked out. So, I am not going to sit back and watch while my second chance at winning this war just passes by. I don't know why I have to constantly prove myself to people so I can do some good in the world, but no one's willing to give a damn chance." I slowly shook my head, "This is World War III, Fury. Face it, whether you like me or not, you're gonna need all the help you can get."

Then there was silence. Fury rubbed his temple, sighing with his eye closed. Had I gotten through to him? "Fury," I said, breaking the silence. He opened his eye, "Just give me a chance." I tried for the last time.

He sat up straight in his chair, dug his hand in the pocket of his coat, and pulled out a small silver key. "Fine," he said, defeated, sliding the key over at me. "I'll give you one chance, Barnes, _one_ chance."

A smile broke out on my face; I did it. "Thank you, sir." I said, snatching the key off the table and started to unlock the handcuffs.

"Just know I'm sticking my neck out for you. It isn't only up to me I got a whole Board of Directors on my ass—"

"Right, right, sure," I stood up, feeling my whole body surge with exhilaration. All that sneaking around was actually worth it.

"And you'll have to undergo training with Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers. I know you barely had time to get used to your new Super-Soldier body and you need to be fit for missions when they are given to you." Fury said, only making my smile wider; I was going to see Steve.

"Right, speaking of Rogers, where can I find him?" I asked so quickly I don't think he quite caught what I said.

He raised an eyebrow suspiciously, "He's either somewhere down in medical care or off looking for you. You're that eager to start training?"

"Yup, really wanna get started. See, I'm an over achiever!" I said, giddy with joy.

Fury shook his head, "Jesus help me…" and he walked over to the door and unlocked it.

_Beep._

I was free.

"Thank you, Director. I won't let you down, sir." I assured him, eagerly following him out of the room.

"You better not let me down, or I'll ship your sorry ass back to Brooklyn." He warned, giving me one last glare of warning before marching down the hall.

I took in a deep breath, feeling my lungs expand with absolute freedom. It was the same air I had been breathing since I landed on the Helicarrier, but it felt fresher in my chest knowing I was actually allowed to be breathing it. I started down the hall, a bounce in my step, and a single thought racing back and forth through my mind; where the hell was Steve?

I walked past door after door, but I knew Steve wasn't going to be in any of those. Fury said he was probably looking for me, just like I was looking for him. I passed by another room, and as I walked past the window, something caught my eye, and I did a double take. Sitting inside the room was Loki's scepter, still in mint condition even after what it had just been through, gleaming in the artificial white light, the blue of The Tesseract's energy pulling me in.

_Beep._

"You know, it looks a hell of a lot better up close, but you already knew that, didn't you?"

I quickly turned away from the window, startled by the unfamiliar voice, and found an unfamiliar face to go along with it; well it wasn't _that _unfamiliar. I knew who he was as soon as I laid eyes on him, and it wasn't his brown locks or big, hazel eyes that gave him away. Hell, it wasn't even his beard. It was the smirk that was curled up on his handsome face that made his name instantly fall into my head.

I smiled, "You're Anthony Stark," I said, bluntly.

His smirk widened, "You knew that too, huh?" he said, standing up straight.

"Yeah, well I knew your dad—"

"Lucky guy," He interjected confidently, his hazel eyes scanning me.

I laughed lightly, slowly nodding my head, "I mean, it wasn't hard to put together the pieces."

"Right…well I can't put _your_ pieces together. You sneak on to SHIELD's headquarters, take an unauthorized flight to Germany, and then kick Loki's ass all without permission or any kind of help—"

"I did have a little help, actually—"

"Well, just a little." He said with a shrug. "How'd you do it? Are you some kind of spy? Because I've dealt with female spies before, won't fall for that again, trust me."

"I'm not a spy, I'm a soldier – was one at least," I said, nodding my head.

"Okay, so does this not-a-spy-used-to-be-soldier have a name?" He asked, cocking his head.

"Marty," I said, extending a hand, "Marty Barnes."

He shook my hand, "Well, you took the pleasure of introducing myself to you away, but I'll do it anyways; Tony Stark. You can call me Anthony if you'd prefer, just so long as you promise to keep saying my name."

I released his hand, "Tony it is."

"Got it," he said, turning around to walk back into the room, "You comin'?"

I shook my head, "Actually, I was just looking for someone…."

"Oh, come on, I think Rogers can keep his denchers on a little longer," he said, putting a hand on my arm, leading me into the room.

"How did you know?" I asked, confusedly, but he had already dragged me into the room and now was introducing me to another person.

I recognized him from the debriefing packet. His wavy hair, glasses. It was the man with serum malfunction. He was standing behind the table with the scepter on it, busy with some kind of technological device. It looked like he was measuring some kind of wavelength. I looked around the room; there was a bunch of devices like the one he was working with. This had to be a lab.

"Marty Barnes, this is—"

"Doctor Banner," I finished, extending an arm, "I read your file."

The doctor's head shot up from his work. He looked taken aback by my presence. "Oh…yeah," he said, barely gripping my hand as he shook it, "Nice to meet you, Miss Barnes." He smiled awkwardly, quickly releasing my hand. "You're the lady they dug out of the ice, the one who came from Steve's time, right?"

"Uh…yeah," I said, shocked that he actually knew who I was.

"It's a miracle, didn't I tell you?" Tony said to the doctor as he tapped away at one of the screens in the room.

"Right, but it wasn't a miracle when Rogers was found?" Bruce said, raising an eyebrow at Tony. Stark simply shrugged.

"Hey, if you knew who I was, why'd you ask for my name out there?" I asked Tony, my hands on my hips.

He smirked, glancing back at me, "I just really wanted to shake your hand."

Yup; just like his dad.

I shook my head, turning around and facing Bruce again, looking down at the scepter, "So, what did they do with Loki?" I asked, placing a hand on the golden bar.

"They locked him up, I think," Banner replied, merely glancing up from his work.

"That guy's bad news," I said suspiciously, "lost his marbles for sure."

"Hey, Miss Barnes," Tony said randomly, "you got company."

"Huh?" I said curiously, spinning around. I looked outside the window and out into the hall. My curiosity vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, because standing outside the door was my company, the company I had been waiting so long to have again.

**Steve**

When I saw Marty standing on that cliff, hovering over Loki, the lightning striking above her, I thought I was hallucinating. She was supposed to be asleep in New York. You know, the whole endless-sea-not-being-able-to-see-her-but-she-was-there stuff; yeah. So, I was a little shocked when I saw her awake, not to mention that close to me and fighting the leader of the new war, on her own. I was right about her being the prisoner in Lockdown, and I was right about Fury not telling me she was awake. He kept it from me, but why…?

However, at that very moment, I couldn't care less that Fury didn't tell me, I didn't care that Marty had been in Lockdown or that she fought Loki. I just cared about the fact that she was actually here, and the only thing that was separating us was the window of Stark ad Banner's lab.

She stared at me, her bright blue eyes wide and her mouth curled up in a smile I hadn't seen in what felt like a century. Wait, it had been a century. I raised my hand in a half wave, beaming like a goof. She muttered something to Stark and Banner, and then quickly began making her way out of the lab.

_Beep._

My stomach fluttered as the door opened, and out came my girl, close enough to touch. The door shut behind her as she stared up at me, speechless. I cleared my throat, "Uh…hey— ow!"

She had punched me in the arm, "You big idiot! Who the hell crashes a plane into the ocean, _purposely_?!"

"I was – it was to protect—" I stammered, but she wasn't even mad. She was grinning up at me, slowly shaking her head, looking up at me with disbelief.

"Oh, shut up, Rogers," she wrapped her arms around me, digging her face into the crook of my neck. I felt the blush creep up onto my cheeks as she breathed on to my skin. I wrapped my arms around her dainty body, feeling all those days and nights of solitude, of tearing open punching bags, and reading the Sunday paper on Wednesdays just vanish. I let the familiarity, her scent, everything sink in. My heart was beating so fast, I was sure she could feel my pulse against her cheek. Whatever relationship Marty and I had before the ice was different now. We were close then, but now…it was a whole new level. I was holding the last bit of my old life in my hands; Marty was my home.

She finally let go, looking down at the floor and half-laughed, "So…"

"So?" I said, cocking my head.

"What's new, Cap?"

I couldn't take my eyes off of her, "What isn't?" I pointed out, shrugging.

"Good point," she said, looking back up.

"Fury told me about the…training. He had strict orders," I said, nodding my head.

"Well, I don't mind training now. Besides," she said, running a hand through her boy-cut hair as she looked back into the lab, "we could use some time to catch up."

"Right…" I said, losing myself in her features. I realized how much I had missed her eyes and lips. It was like after all our time part I'd forgotten how…beautiful she was.

She laughed, "What?" She asked frantically, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink, which only made me blush again.

"Nothing, nothing," I said, clearing my throat, "It's just…did you get taller?"

She nodded her head. "Sure did, like two inches," she said, proudly. "I'm almost your height now," she joked.

"Yeah," I chuckled, the smile stuck on my face, my eyes not moving off the woman in front of me, "not quite."


	9. A Two Man Team

_***Hey guys, so I was considering whether or not I should even update today, but then I though, why not! So yeah, here's nine. This one's the first romantic one of the sequel. Oh, and by the way, next week I have exams! So, my mom's not gonna let me use the laptop for ore than 3.5 seconds at a time. So, I don't know if I'll be able to get something up, but I'll try. There are always ways...I hope. Okay bye, and I hope you like it! -Noor xx* **_

**Marty**

We might've gone over to the training room, but I can assure you, training was the last thing we did. Steve and I entered the brightly lit room. White lights illuminated the heavily padded floors, the punching bags, and the dumbbell weights that were positioned neatly around the room. It was all very clean and professional, nothing to kid around with. However, despite the fact that Steve and I actually walked all the way over here, got dressed in skin tight muscle shirts, and wrapped our knuckles up for protection, we couldn't bring ourselves to throw a single punch or lift the lightest weight. We were too busy talking, too busy taking in each other's presences to even try, or care for that matter.

I had never felt better than in the moment when I saw the big old goof standing outside the lab, his hand up in a half-wave, wearing that stupid smile that I missed. It was like I had been hauling around these huge hundred-pound weights around on my shoulders, pulling me down, making it hard to simply walk, or breathe. Then when I saw Steve, my lips curled up into a smile, and the weights went up too, rising off my back, relieving me of the burden of being by myself, of being alone.

I was so distracted by the blueness of his eyes, the sharpness of his jaw. The whole way to the training room I refused to look away from the blonde walking beside me, and thankfully, he was refusing to look away from me too.

When we reached the gym, we walked across the gray mats on the floor and towards the changing rooms. I quickly tore off my SHIELD uniform and pulled a white muscle shirt over my head, slipping on some black fitting pants as well; they were both provided in the changing rooms. When I was done, I walked out and found Steve waiting for me, dressed ready for training as well, the black, skintight fabric of his shirt clung to his biceps, outlining the muscles on his chest and stomach. He looked good, he looked better than I remembered.

"So," I said, looking up at him with a smile. I couldn't grasp the fact he was actually staring back at me. I thought back to that afternoon in his apartment, the day I enveloped myself in the sheets of his bed and cried like an idiot, wishing he was lying there next to me. Now, I didn't have to wish. "You ready to train, Rogers?" I asked with exaggerated enthusiasm.

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Not exactly."

Then, that's when it began. We ended up sitting on the gray mats, taking advantage of the fact that we were the only two in the room, and began to talk.

"So?" Steve began awkwardly, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his palms pressed face down into the mat, supporting him.

"Why are you being so quiet?" I asked raising an eyebrow, crossing my legs Indian-style, resting my hands in my laps.

He shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I just don't know where to start."

"Fine, I'll start then," I replied, leaning in, "What the hell is happening?"

My question was simple but the answer was way beyond any form of simplicity. Steve stared at me for a short moment, and then brought his broad shoulders up in another shrug, "We fell asleep."

"Sure is one hell of a nap," I muttered with a sigh. "What happened exactly that night, with you and Schmidt?" I asked, feeling my stomach sink the slightest at the mention of that bastard's name.

"Well," Steve cleared his throat, getting ready to explain; I scooted in closer with interest, "I got on the plane, like you told me. I left you a hint; I don't if you found it—"

"I did," I assured him, remembering my mother's bandana that had been planted by Steve back on the HYDRA plane as a sign of his progress.

"Right, well anyways, I found Schmidt. He told me your procedure didn't go as smoothly as he had originally planned. So, after fighting him for bit, he grabbed hold of the Tesseract and just…disintegrated. It was weird, but it finished him off for sure. Then, the Tesseract burned through the plane and dropped into the ocean, so did the plane…." he trailed off, his bright eyes meeting the mat.

"What do you mean it 'didn't go as smoothly as he thought'?" I question, skeptically.

Steve looked up again, his eyes skimming over me, "He told me you were dead."

I was quiet for a moment, taking in this new information. Steve was set on the idea that I was dead for a whole month, the month before SHIELD defrosted me. The blonde wore a subtle smile, but the expression of relief that softened his features, raising his brows and widening his eyes with disbelief, overpowered any ounce of happiness he was conveying.

"You can't believe I'm here can you?" I asked bluntly. I was never really able to read Steve so quickly before, but it was as if everything that was going in his mind was written over his face in bold, black ink, plain as day.

"To be honest," he said, slowly shaking his head, "I can't."

His face was breaking my heart, his eyes big and round, like a god damn puppy! "Well, I ain't dead," I said, leaning into him slightly, "I'm right here." I felt like a hypocrite as I spoke. I was just as relieved to see Steve as he was to see me, probably even more….

His blank expression was replaced by a crooked smirk. "Wait hold on…" he said casually, pinching himself in the arm, his eyes shut tight in exaggerated focus. "Mhm… yup it's real," he said playfully, nodding his head.

"You sure it's real, 'cause I can jab you a few times if you're not sure?" I joked, holding up a fist.

"Geez, have mercy," he said, raising both his hands in front of him. "I believe you, I believe you…."

I laughed for the first time in a long time, my chest felt lighter the second it passed my lips. "You're such a dork," I teased, pushing him gently. Yes, now these moments, these were what I missed the most. I found myself subtly inching closer to him on the mat, so that our arms were just brushing up against each other.

He chuckled for a moment, before gaining composure. "So, what happened to _you_ that night?" He asked, meeting my eyes, and for some reason my stomach gave a tiny flutter. He really did look good in his muscle shirt. The blackness of the fabric contrasted with the rest of his fairness, making the blue pop in his eyes and his blonde hair look even blonder….

Judging by the blush that now tinted Steve's cheeks, I must've been looking at him for quite some time. I immediately turned away, feeling as though I had been caught in the act of some crime. I tried to pretend my face wasn't heating up as I brought my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them. I never really got this way around guys before. I was usually calm and collected, completely indifferent. But here I was, actually getting all flustered over Steve.

"So much happened that night," I sighed, directing my thoughts away from the unusual handsomeness of my friend. I instead began to take myself back to the night Bucky died, the night everything changed. "Well, after you left to go to the plane, Schmidt came. He was takin' me outta the building to go to the plane too, but you'll never guess who showed up then; Bucky." The name didn't slip out of my mouth with ease. It was heavy on my tongue, so thick with grief, and although I had cried so many tears over the name, it dried up my mouth, my throat, making it hard to keep speaking. "He tried to save me, but um, yeah Schmidt got him."

Then there was only the sound of the plane humming beneath us. I thought maybe Steve would say "I'm sorry" or "may he rest in peace", you know, some shit like that. But then I thought, why would he say anything? Bucky was just as much as a brother to him as he was to me. We were both mourning the death of a family member.

Then, after a long silence, I spoke again, "Yeah, so once I got on the plane Zola drugged me, and the rest is history really."

"So you were alive the whole time, "he stated, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Apparently."

"How did you get here, on the Helicarrier? Actually, how did you even find out about the Initiative in the first place?"

I started where most people would; the beginning. I told my friend everything that had happened to me so far. I told him about waking up to Fury in the hospital room, about going to his apartment and about how he had forgotten his debriefing packet on the kitchen table, about sneaking on to the Helicarrier, about Joseph, about Loki, and about Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. I told him about all but one thing; the crying. I had decided, as a split second decision, to leave out the part about me sobbing in his empty apartment, enveloped in the covers of his bed. Steve spent a whole month on his own and I couldn't even handle a day by myself without breaking down; it was embarrassing. I just thought I was stronger than that, and I didn't want Steve to think I was weak. However, I regretted it as soon as I left it out. I wanted Steve to know how much I needed him, but it was too late.

"Wow…" Steve whispered once I was done talking, smiling at me; my stomach flipped again.

"What?" I asked frantically, smiling back at him.

"It's just, you haven't changed one bit."

"Did you really think I would?"

"Not even for a second."

"Plus, if I did change, I'd be back in New York. Who would be here to kick Loki's ass?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders.

"The Avengers, maybe," He suggested with a slight smirk.

"Didn't you hear?" I asked, resting my head on his broad shoulder. "I _am_ an Avenger now."

Then suddenly, there were the unmistakable sounds of a door opening and footsteps echoing out through the vacant gym. I sat upright, moving my head off Steve's shoulder as the footsteps grew louder, curiosity creasing my face. Then, ambling out from behind one of the large punching bags was a woman. An agent with fiery hard that fell over sharp eyes, she smile at the pair of us.

"How's the training going?" she asked in a smooth tone, folding her arms over her womanly chest.

"Oh," Steve said, awkwardly clearing his throat, "training…" He stood up from the ground, offering me a hand, "right." I took his hand, gripping it tightly as he hoisted me off the mat.

"Fury didn't expect you two to do any training," she pointed out.

I snorted. "He'd be kiddin' himself if he did," I muttered, grinning up at Steve.

"Miss Barnes, my name's Natasha Romanoff," the red-haired agent greeted, extending a hand, "it's an honor."

I reached over, taking the woman's hand, "Uh…thanks."

"Well, I came over to take you to your new room, Miss Barnes, if you two are done here," she said, professionally.

"I-I could take her," Steve said at once.

"It's no trouble, Cap," she denied, shaking her head.

"No, really it's fine," he offered again, persistent. He glanced towards me, that look of disbelief blanking his expression again, "Just tell me where it is and I'll take her…."

**At Loki's Prison Cell**

The demi-god paced back and forth within the circular glass walls of his cage. He had imagined himself to be quite irked with the way his plans were going. He had been imprisoned by his enemies, but the more he stayed here and circled his prison, the more he realized that this was far from an adversity; this was an opportunity. He was in their main center of operation. Now, he could stalk their every move, manipulate them, and maybe even gather a new follower or two. This was not a setback; this was being one step ahead.

However, despite Loki having the upper hand now, he couldn't help but think about the one SHIELD personnel in particular, the only one who had made him seem weak. She had been the first to confront him face to face, the first to attack without a team by her side or any another weapons other than a mere shotgun and a couple of fists; Marty Barnes.

He smirked to himself as her name echoed though his head; Marty Barnes. She had heart, heart that was being wasted, pushed aside, and looked over here at SHIELD. Marty Barnes had the spirit of a dictator. She could probably make entire civilizations fall at her feet if she wished, but she did not care for such power…yet.

Just then, there was a beeping noise. Loki turned around on his heels and looked towards the metal doors as they opened, welcoming in Nick Fury. The man in black strode in confidently, his eye landing on the 'prisoner' before him.

"How do you like your cell?" Nick Fury asked, walking up towards the glass.

"It's quite impressive_, I must say_," Loki responded cynically, scanning the prison around him. His 'cage' was round, made entirely out of thick glass windows. It was placed strategically in the far side of the mortal's flying craft, far away from any source of action. "Not made for someone like me, unfortunately," Loki continued, directing his gaze back to Fury.

"Made for something a lot _stronger_ than you," Fury retorted immediately.

"Speaking on prisons, what have you done with my capturer?" Loki couldn't help but ask, "Barnes?"

Fury crossed his arms over his chest, inclining his head, disapproval furrowing his brows. "I'm not so sure that concerns you," he said, vexed, his gaze narrowing.

"Ah, I see…" Loki said, mysteriously, "It's a shame; I did wish I had the chance of meeting her again. You see, Barnes and I, we haven't finished our game." Loki said peculiarly. He smirked as the confusion and worry creased the director's face.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you and Barnes can schedule another play date," Fury said, turning around and heading over to a small control board in the corner of the room. "That is, if you don't fall through this." The director proceeded to click around on the board, and all of the sudden the floor of Loki's prison vanished from beneath him, or so he thought.

He jumped back only for a moment before realizing what had happened. The floor hadn't disappeared. The floor of the cage was also made out of glass, and below it was a door he had not noticed before. Loki peered down into the black night below his feet, blustering with winds, opaque. It was clever, very clever.

"That's thousands and thousands of feet down in a steel trap, you get the picture?!" Fury threatened over the noise before shutting the door again.

"Well, Barnes and I better get planning, I presume."

**Steve**

I wasn't ready to say goodnight to Marty back at the training room. It felt like there were all of these unidentified words piling up at the back of my throat, and as much as I wanted to voice them, I just couldn't, because I had no clue what they were. So, I thought maybe walking Marty to her room might help me figure it out, but as we approached her door I still didn't have a clue.

"So, uh…this is it," I said, stopping abruptly in the long hall in front of her door.

"Right, let's see," Marty said, stepping in front of me and turning the metal knob of the door, swinging it open. I followed after her as she walked in, turning on the lights. The room was small. There was a single bed with dull covers, a small round, metal table beside it, and a window. That was all. "Oh…okay," Marty said quietly, slowly walking further into the room.

"Could be worse," I pointed out with a shrug as she sank down on the mattress, the springs bouncing loudly beneath her weight.

"Yeah, I could be alone," she said, a subtle, happy smile on her face.

I didn't know what to say, but I think the blush on my cheeks was saying more than I could ever. I smiled back at her, "Yeah, you could have been…." I cleared my throat, slowly nodding my head, "Well, I should go, try and get some sleep, alright?"

"Sure…." She replied in almost a whisper. Then suddenly, there was something very wrong with her face. Her smile dropped and instead she bit anxiously at her lip, her hands were balled up in her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers, and her eyes flickered all around the room. She just flipped like a switch; I'd never seen her like this. I felt my stomach sink, the blood rush from my face.

"Marty," I said gravely, taking a step closer to the bed, "You okay?"

Her head shot up from its downcast, "Yeah, yeah, I feel great!" She assured in the most unconvincing tone I'd ever heard, but I didn't want to pry.

"Okay," I said, uneasily, "If you need anything, I'm just down the hall."

"Yeah, okay, thanks pal."

I nodded my head, turning around on my heels and began walking towards the door. Then, suddenly I heard the springs of bed coil up and Marty's voice was cracking, "Actually Steve, I'm uh…dammit I'm not okay…I'm…."

I immediately spun around. Marty now stood on her feet, her eyes glistening in the dull white light of the lamp above. I rushed over to her, gently putting a hand on her arm, feeling my stomach wrench with anxiety. Just the sight of her made my chest pang. "Marty, _what's wrong_?" I asked, stressing every letter.

"I really wanted to tell you something back in the training room, but I didn't want you to think I was…" She trailed off, slipping out of my hand and sinking back down on to the mattress.

I sat down next to her, feeling her tremble slightly beside me, "You didn't want me to think you were what?" I asked softly, desperately, searching for her eyes but she just wouldn't look at me.

"Weak!" She breathed out, a sob cracking her voice. "Shit…" she muttered, covering her face with her hands. Marty was always like this. She constantly had up this wall so no one ever knew what she was feeling. It was as if she forcing her feelings back into her body, refusing any emotions.

"Marty, crying doesn't mean you're weak," I said, hoping she wasn't just hearing me, but actually listening.

"Yeah it does," she denied, her voice muffled by her hands.

"No," I said firmly. I gently placed my hands over hers and slowly began to lower them off her tear-streaked face, "It means you're human." She finally met my gaze. She sniffled, nodding her head. I kept her hands in mine, "Do you wanna tell me what's buggin' you?"

She shrugged, looking down at our hands. We had never held hands before, but I could get used to the feeling of her skin. "I'm scared," she admitted, I could tell, with reluctance. But it was Marty; it was a miracle she was voicing her feelings at all.

"Why?" I asked softly, my eyes never leaving her face.

"_This _doesn't happen to people, Steve. People just don't sleep for almost a century then wake up as if nothing happened. I just don't get why it's happening!" She said exasperatedly, tears streaming down her face. "What happened to our lives?"

"I don't know why this happening. I know just as much as you do," I said with sigh, "hell, part of the reason I accepted Fury's Avengers deal was because I was so lost. I needed a distraction from all of it."

"That makes two of us, then…" she said quietly.

"I know you're scared, Marty, but you don't have to be," I said, hoping she was being reassured. I took one of my hands and brought it up to her beautiful face, gently wiping away her tears with my thumb, "We're in this together now, just like old times; a two man team."

She gazed at me for a long moment, and spoke as her tears subsided, "I'm so glad you're here." Then, in one sudden movement, she leaned into me, wrapping her arms around my neck, nestling her head into my shoulder. My heart rate accelerated as I held on to her. I was becoming so accustomed to the feeling of her breath, the smell of her skin. She felt right, there between my arms. Then, out of the blue, I felt her lips against the crook of my neck. She softly kissed my skin, and whispered into my ear, "Goodnight, Captain."


	10. Realizations

_***I finally finished it! Holy crap these exams suck, guys! Thank god I only have two left. I left you guys hanging for like two weeks, oh god I'm so sorry. I hope you're still here, 'cause I missed you. Um, so the exams went...okay? Yeah, okay I basically failed all the sciences and math, but who knows, I might still get employed one day! I hope you guys are doing alright, though. What's up? How are you feeling, dudes? **_

_**Okay, also I have an announcement I might start writing two stories at once. Yes, I know this seems like a really bad idea since I can barely maintain one, but I think maybe I should challenge myself, woo! So yeah, if this whole 'two story' think works out, it'll probably be a BBC Sherlock Fanfic, Moriarty/OC, I'm already working on the plot. Not sure I'll write it soon or if I won't, but I just thought I needed to tell you. **_

_**So, this is number 10. Tony's in this one. I'm still kinda fresh to this character but I think I'll get the hang of him soon. However, until I have mastered the way of the Stark, why don't you guys tell me how you think I'm doing on his character! Anyways, hope you like it, sorry for such a late update. Love you, bye!* **_

_**-Noor xx**_

**Marty**

_"FALSWORTH!" I yelled out, straining my voice as loud as I could, hoping he would hear me over the war. Schmidt shot me a shocked and infuriated expression, digging the tip of the gun deep into my skin. He tried to force me away, but I dug my boots into the dirt, resisting, "FALSWORTH!"_

_Flasworth's head snapped in our direction. He looked confused at first, looking around to see who had called his name. I called for him again, "FALSWORTH!" He met my gaze and his small, brown eyes went wide. Instantaneously, he sped towards us._

_"Barnes!" He called, sprinting. Wait a god damn second. Did he just call me Barnes…?_

_"Flasworth!" I said as he came within a couple of yards of us. "Listen, it's Bucky! He's dead!" I tried to say before Schmidt had the chance to pull me away._

_"I've had enough of this for one night!" Schmidt yelled, removing the gun from my temple and instead pointed at the running Flasworth. The soldier stopped abruptly in his tracks, immediately raising his weapon at Schmidt. "Say on more word and I swear I'll shoot!" Schmidt warned, but I stupidly ignored him and opened my mouth to speak._

_"You need to get his body form that building over there!" I said, nodding my head in the direction of the building Schmidt had just dragged me out of. Schmidt squeezed my arm so tight I could literally feel the circulation stopping. Falsworth looked wounded and overwhelmed, but he kept a strong hold on his weapon, keeping it aimed at Schmidt's chest. "You can't leave him in there -NO!"_

_Schmidt had pulled the trigger on his gun. Suddenly, Falsworth was clutching a bleeding shoulder and stumbling backwards into the dirt._

…_._

_"I don't really care, Steve!" I said, completely contradicting myself._

_"No offense, Marty, but it kinda looks like you do."_

_"She's just not right for you!" I said in defense._

_"And why not?" Steve asked, looking completely lost._

_"She doesn't know you, Steve."_

_"Maybe she'll get to know me, with time?"_

_"No she's not your type!"_

_"Then what is my type?"_

_"How the hell am I supposed to know? But it's not her." I looked him straight in the eyes, and felt my heart flutter, "She thinks you're all big hotshot Captain Rogers with the nice bone structure and a fancy shield, but that's not who you are. You're this sweet little scrawny kid who threw up at Coney Island, can't dance save his life, and who doesn't understand one god damn thing about women, and she'll never see that because she doesn't know you."_

…_._

_I felt needles, piercing my skin, and a cold, slimy sensation spread through my body. That was probably the serum going into me. Then things escalated quickly. Suddenly my whole body was shaking violently, pain, searing hot pain spread over every inch of me. It felt as though my insides, my muscles, my nerves, were being torn apart, rearranged, and being put back together again. My arms, my legs, everything was in blinding, white pain. I couldn't help but shriek. Everything was becoming too much. I couldn't breathe, I could barely see…_

…_._

I jolted upright in the bed. My heaving chest, covered with sweat, gleamed in the dim light of the moon as it emitted from the small window. My throat felt prickly and sore, as if I had been screaming. Had I been screaming…? I ran trembling hands through my damp, short hair, trying to hear my thoughts over the thundering heart in my throat. This had been the first night of sleep I had gotten after waking up to Fury in that hospital room. I thought after my talk with Steve I would be able to sleep just fine, get on with my life from here on out, but the images that had just ambushed me…the flashbacks…. How could I start over if I was going to be dragged back into the past every time I closed my eyes?

I shook my head, my temper actually rising as I threw the thin sheets off me. I tried to figure out who I was so mad at, who was making my fingers clench, but I realized it was just me in the tiny, small room and the only person I could be mad at was me. I swung my legs over the mattress and slipped on those uncomfortable shoes Fury had given me. The ill-fitting shoes were petty things, but they increased my temper anyways.

I walked over to the door, and let it slide open automatically. I slipped out into the hall without the slightest clue of where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to be anywhere but that room. So, I started blindly down the hall with the painful images of my old life still flashing in my mind.

I made my way past the countless doors, feeling cluttered and confused. As I reached the end of the hall, I stopped at his door, Steve's door. He had told me before leaving that he was the last room in the hall. So, here I stood, hesitantly, wondering whether or not my knuckles should collide with the door. Should I knock? He was probably asleep, though. Plus, I already bothered him enough for one night.

I sighed and lowered my hand. What I needed was to relax, and although being with Steve until dawn seemed like the most relaxing thing at the moment, I needed to be alone and get my head screwed on right. So, with much reluctance, I turned away from his room and began walking down the hall once again.

The inside of the Helicarrier was still brightly lit at night, but it didn't make it an easier to find my way around. It was even harder to find your way when you didn't have any real destination. I just ambled mindlessly, thinking long and hard about my flashbacks. I wondered if Falsworth _had _taken Bucky's body back to the Italian Base, if he had been buried with honor. The only thing worse than seeing your brother die right before your eyes, was knowing he rotted in the soil of the people who killed him in the first place. I thought about the memory of being turned into a Super Soldier and how that one especially had felt creepily real, as if the procedure was happening all over again. The pain, the burning, the icy cold sensation of the serum seeping into my veins; it was enough to make me shudder in the empty hall.

Then, there was the third memory, the one of me arguing with Steve about Peggy. I remember being so angry, so jealous. I didn't get it then, why I had felt so annoyed, and I kind of still didn't get it now. All I know was that Peggy _was_ wrong for him, she didn't know Steve. I knew Steve. I think I knew Steve more than he knew himself. So, why would that big old goof go and dance around with Carter, a girl who barely even knew his last name, rather than dance with a girl who knew his first, middle, and last? Why didn't he dance…with me?

Wow Marty, it's been nearly a century and you're still not over it? You sure can hold a grudge, I thought to myself as I shuffled down the halls.

But that was the thing. It was _still_ bothering me, _still_ nodding at my brain. I was so annoyed by the fact they danced, that they kissed, and I was even more pissed off at the fact that_ I_ didn't kiss Steve that night when HYDRA raided the base, when everything was so chaotic yet completely still and at peace because Steve was so close to me. Maybe I was annoyed because I might've lost my chance, or because I had a thing for Steve, a really big thing for Steve—

I stopped in the middle of the hall, blush creeping on to my cheeks, my heart pounding with a realization. I liked him; I liked that bastard a lot. Shit, was I in love with Steve Rogers…?

"You lost?"

The voice made me jump, coming out of nowhere. I looked up from the ground, finding myself suddenly face to face with Tony Stark. His neatly trimmed beard sharpened his jaw as he smirked. The bright blue outline of his Arc Reactor (that thing in his chest I had read about back in Steve's apartment) glowed faintly from under the black fabric of his t-shirt. He stood at in the doorway of his lab, which I had no idea I had even walked to, with a small metallic bag in his hands.

"Er…" I said a little absentmindedly, the word 'love' still echoing through my head, "I wanna say no, but…."

"Understandable," he said, nodding his head, "this place is like a game of Labyrinth."

"A game of what?" I asked, scrunching up my face in confusion.

"Right, sorry," he said snapping a finger, as if he had retained a thought that kept slipping his mind, "It's like a…maze, generally speaking."

I sighed, "Yup, I'm surprised I didn't end up on the flight deck."

"Uh…huh," he said, leaning against the doorframe, "Why are you awake anyways – blueberry?" he offered, extending the little metallic bag towards me.

"No thanks," I said, shaking my cluttered head. Love…I couldn't be in _love_….

He shrugged after a moment, moving the bag back towards him, "So, what's keepin' you up? I'm betting it's some kinda digestive issue or something. I mean, the food here isn't exactly you know…" he said, staring down into his bag of berries before popping one into his mouth, "Actually, it's not half bad."

I laughed lightly. "Well, it's not the berries, if you must know. It's something else," I said, my eyes flickering towards the floor.

"Let me see…" he said, thoughtfully, "bed bugs?"

"Nope.

"Are you high?"

"Seriously?"

"I think it's a valid question, in my defense," he replied, digging his fingers into the metallic bag, "Uh…got a lot on your mind?"

"Warmer."

"Nightmare?"

The flashbacks played over again in my head; Bucky, Schmidt, Steve…. I drew in a deep breath, "more or less," and then let it out into the air, wishing I could breathe out all of my pain and confliction with it.

He swallowed, "Oh, bummer. If it's any kind of consolation, I make a great cuddle buddy, so I've been told."

I didn't fight the smile. "I'll keep that in mind," I said, nodding my head. "What are _you_ doing up?" I asked, curiously, peeking into the lab behind him.

"Just checking up on things, being a responsible adult, you know, the usual," He went off sarcastically.

"Right…" I muttered, raising an eyebrow. I had read his file. Tony wasn't even qualified to be part of the Initiative at first. He was labeled as unstable, unpredictable, conceited, and wasn't considered a big fan of working in numbers, but they let him in anyways, kind of like what they did with me.

"Wanna come in?" He offered, jerking his head in the direction of the lab.

I shrugged my shoulders, slightly inclining my head, "I dunno, wouldn't wanna intrude on the whole 'being a responsible adult' thing."

"I'll try not to get sidetracked, promise."

So, I followed the inventor into the lab, hoping the strange and unfamiliar technology would steal my attention long enough for me to relax, to forget. The lab was small. There were a couple of rectangular metal tables, a few screens, very peculiar looking to me with their see-through surfaces, covered in charts, graphs, and incomprehensible calculations. There was also a very large window with small squared panels of glass that looked directly out into the night sky; the stars were still visible even through the overcast of gray clouds; it _was _relaxing in a way.

But those weren't the only things that caught my attention. In fact, there was one thing that had particularly drawn my gaze, and this object was actually familiar; Loki's scepter. It lay on one of the tables, still glowing with the Tesseract's energy, the gold of the rod popping against the dull white and gray of the lab. It looked out of place, like it was from another planet, kind of like me.

I slowly walked towards the table, leaning over, getting a really good look at the scepter for the first time. "Sure is something, huh?" I said quietly, placing my hand on complexly designed rod.

"Sure," Stark agreed, sliding beside me.

"Oh, what's this?" I asked randomly, just now noticing the other device that lay on the table. It was a rectangular and light-weight with a screen on the front and a wire trailing out from the bottom. I picked it up off the table, turning it around questionably in my hands.

"That, Miss Barnes, is what we science fellow call a spectrometer. We're using it to track Gamma Radiation, find the Tesseract," Stark informed, taking the device out of my hands. Right, Stark and Banner had been called to on to find the cube; I wondered how their progress was going. "These things have been around since, what, the stone age; way before you and Grandpa Rogers' day."

Grandpa Rogers? I didn't know whether I should laugh or get offended. So, I did a little of both.

"Right…" I mumbled as he placed the spectrometer back on the table. "I'm not much of a science gal."

"Yeah, but you're a whole bunch of other things," Tony said, his hazel eyes scrutinizing me. "How'd you do it, get Fury to let you in? Did you bribe him—?"

"Gosh Stark…" I said, rolling my eyes with a soft laugh.

"I'm also still not entirely convinced you're not a spy, just sayin'. I mean come on, normal people aren't just born with your kind of physique," he spoke gesturing to basically all of me. "Which is very impressive, I might add."

"I'm not a spy—"

"Something only a spy would say—"

"_And_," I stressed, keeping him quite for a little while, "I wasn't born with this 'physique', I didn't even get it on my own; I was forced into it…" My voice shrunk as I trailed off, and the flashbacks that had finally managed to slip my mind for a few peaceful moments now rushed back into my head. "Dammit, sorry," I apologized once I noticed I had been the cause for a short silence.

"You're fine," Stark said causally. I nodded my head with a sigh.

"I should get back to bed," I muttered, giving my old friend's son a forced smile before turning to leave the lab. I made it halfway to the door before Tony got his question out.

"Did it hurt?" He asked casually, making me stop in my tracks.

I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his big eyes, "Hell yeah."

"How did it happen, the whole serum incident – can I call it that?" Stark persisted, looking genuinely interested.

I turned around completely this time, now facing Tony. I wanted to tell him, but it was just kind of painful, revisiting that night, the night everything changed, "I don't really know how to…I'm just being stupid—"

"I get it. This thing right here," he said, patting the illuminated circle on his chest, "it's no walk in the park."

There was some kind of atmosphere about Tony Stark that was inviting, friendly, and complex in the most intriguing of ways. "Did _that_ hurt?" I asked, pointing to his chest.

"Just a lot, but I kind of had it coming, I guess," he said with a shrug.

"What happened?" I asked hesitantly. My eyes were fixated on the bright circle of light. I found it so neat, the way it was literally in him, keeping him alive.

"Technically speaking, I blew myself up, got a bunch of shrapnel in my blood. Without the Arc Reactor I'm toast, it stops all of it from getting to my heart…" He went on about how he was held captive and fooled his captures into believing he had built them a missile when really he had been building his first Iron Man suit. It was an interesting story, one I could relate to. By the end, I was regretting not telling him about my experience, but it was too late now. Besides, I was so into what he was saying at, so into his Arc Reactor, that I let my curiosity get the best of me.

"Can I see it?" The words fell out of my mouth without intention, but I was glad they did. I was just so confused about how it was actually in the guy; almost as confused as I was about how just a few small test tubes could turn a scrawny, short Steve Rogers, into a tough, built captain of war. Stark, I could tell by his raised eyebrow, was a little taken aback by my question, but he was not the least bit disappointed.

His lips curled up into a crooked smirk, and without hesitation, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt. I took a step back as he raised the fabric over his stomach, revealing a well-fit, firm stomach and chest, but my eyes barely grazed his body, because there it was; the Arc Reactor. "Jesus Christ…" I whispered, taking a couple steps closer to him.

"Oh, come on Barnes, you're gonna make me blush," Tony said, probably still wearing that grin, but the blue complexity of the circle was stealing my attention at that moment.

It was round, pressed smack in the middle of his chest. It looked god damn painful, to be honest, with his skin rimmed around the edges. It glowed with a familiar blue, but this blue wasn't the dreading hue of the Tesseract, it was of something good, something that was meant to protect, not destroy. There was a triangular shape outlined in the middle; the three corners each touching a side of the circle. I had no idea how it worked, but the fact that it was in there doing its job was enough to amaze me. "Wow, it's really _in there_, huh?" I asked, placing a finger on its surface, pressing it slightly, as if to test how secure it was.

I could feel Tony's eyes on me, "Yup, not coming out anytime soon."

I finally managed to tear my eyes away from his chest, a smile breaking on my lips when I realized how he was staring at me, both with interest and humor, as if stifling a laugh. "What?" I asked, frantically.

He chuckled, "Are you usually this easily impressed?"

"Come on, I'm not easily impressed—"

"It's okay, I have that influence on people, it's a normal side effect," he replied with what I couldn't tell was either sarcastic or serious immodesty.

"Side effect of what?" I asked with a scoff of a laugh.

"Of me," he answered simply, slightly cocking his head.

"Please, you don't know what impresses me," I said in slight defense. "You barely know me, Stark."

"Eh, for now."

_Beep._

We both shot our heads towards the door as it slid open. As soon as I saw his figure standing in the door way, the annoying and unfamiliar feeling of blush began to creep back onto my face, and I could see, as he slowly stepped into the lab, that two red flags had also raised on Steve's face.

**Steve**

After leaving Marty's room that night, after she had basically broken down, spilled her heart out, kissed me on the cheek, I couldn't get the feeling of her lips off of my skin. I had walked all the way down the hall, away from her bedroom, feeling light on my feet, my face frozen in pleasant surprise, and it was just a measly kiss on the cheek, but I was a sappy guy; we all knew that. The point is that a thought that had never really occurred to me before was suddenly taking over my brain; did Marty have a thing for me?

I knew for a while now that I had feelings for Marty, you know, the kind of feelings Peggy had for me, but I didn't really think Marty ever felt anything like that, not towards a guy like me. So, there I was, lying sleepless in my small SHIELD bed, thinking back to all the times Marty might've shown signs of liking me; I made a mental list. There was that time I drew Marty in my sketchbook, I remember seeing her blush when I had called her beautiful, but I could've been imagining things. There was also that time Peggy and I danced and she got all upset. Then there was that time when HYDRA attacked and I fell on her, and I felt like she was about to kiss me, I really did. There was another instance, I remember, when I had that same gut feeling that she wanted to kiss me, lean in more than she ever had before; it was when I came to save her from her HYDRA prison, and she pressed herself up really close to the bars of her cell, but she hadn't done anything.

When I thought about all these memories, I was pretty certain that that was how a woman acted when she had feelings for you, but I wasn't positive; it never happened to me before. Despite my doubts, I was feeling pretty good about myself and too cluttered up in the head to get a wink of sleep. So I decided to walk around the Helicarrier, but now, standing in the doorway of Stark's lab, I wish I hadn't gotten out of bed at all.

I just stood there like a big idiot, my face on fire, staring with stomach-sinking shock at Marty, the woman I had just spent the past four hours thinking about, standing red-faced in front of an indifferent Tony Stark, who was baring his stomach and chest, and she was closer to him than I could've ever stupidly hoped she could be to me.

I expected myself to get awkward and embarrassed for walking in on them doing…whatever it was they were doing. On any other day, I would've sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck, cleared my throat, and apologized until the word 'sorry' had lost its meaning, but this time it was different. I didn't feel awkward or as if I was intruding. I felt anger, pure fiery anger, and for the first time, I understood why Marty had gotten so furious after Peggy and I danced. It's because that's what happens to you when you see someone you love with another person, you get jealous, you get…well you get pissed.

"Steve, what are you doing up?" Marty asked, stepping away from Stark, who had enough sense to drop his shirt, and towards me.

"Couldn't sleep, had a lot on my mind I guess," I said a little more harshly than I intended. I wasn't looking down at Marty; my eyes were fixated on Stark, and the anger just kept burning.

"Oh, well that makes two of you, Cap," Stark said folding his arms over his chest, "Barnes and I were just talking about it, weren't we Miss Barnes?" He asked, looking over at Marty, but I didn't give her a chance to answer.

"It didn't look like there was a lot of talking going on," I said defensively, looking down at a confused Marty.

"He was just showing me his...Arc Thingy. You okay, Steve?" Marty asked, as if the reason I was raging was such a big mystery. Gosh, was this how frustrating it was when I didn't understand her back when we had that problem with Peggy?

"I think you mighta missed curfew, young lady," Stark said to Marty who I saw almost crack a smile. "Sorry pal, I'll get her home by nine next time, promise," he said to me, persisting to piss me off.

"I'm sorry, do you have a problem? Because I'd hate for there to be any conflicts in this team of ours, _pal_," I said, to my surprise, with angry sarcasm, pushing past Marty to get to the man behind her. Marty's expression instantly dropped, she could see how mad I was.

"Steve—" She tried grabbing hold of my arm, but I slipped out of her grasp, too furious to hear her out.

"I'm perfectly fine, for you information. It's you that I'm so worried about. I mean, this kind of stress on your body is not good for your health, buddy, especially at such an old age." Stark said in a tone that pushed my buttons so hard that I could only react with a clench of my fist.

"Don't worry about me, Stark," I said coldly, pinning his hazel eyes with mine, "Focus on yourself; that's what you're good at."

He drew in a big breath, ready to strike back, but then a sound broke out. It was a repetitive _beep_, some kind of signal or alarm.

"What is that?" Marty asked, looking around the lab frantically.

Stark rushed over to one of the screens in the room, scrutinizing it with great focus. "We better wake up Fury and Friends," he said, nimbly tapping away at the screens.

"What's up?" Marty asked at once, sliding beside him at the screen. I couldn't help but miss the way she got so into things when there was something going on, how she always jumped at the chance to get her hands dirty, learn every detail.

"We got 'em, we found the Tesseract."


	11. Lady America

_***hey guys, how are you? I hope you guys are good! Here's 11, it's pretty short, but it's all I could manage this week. I really hope you guys are actually liking it so far. So, if you have anything to say or anything to suggest, just let know in the reviews. Hope you guys like this one, see you next time! -Noor xx***_

**Marty**

"Did you find it?" Nick Fury asked curtly, not bothering to greet the three of us as he strode into the lab. I shot a look of confusion and disbelief up at a somewhat less tense Steve Rogers. His mouth hung open slightly and his fair brows were nearly up to his hairline; he too was shocked. How did information move so quickly throughout the ship? It was barely three minutes since the repetitive beeping told us about the newly found Tesseract and Fury was already up and ready for action.

"Sure did," Stark replied causally, turning the screen so that it faced Fury. The man in black quickly scanned over it with his eye, slowly nodding his bald head.

"So, that's where they're hiding…" Fury said thoughtfully.

"Where?" I couldn't help but ask. I let the waves of curiosity and eagerness take over me as I grabbed the edge of the screen, turning it away from the director's view and adjusting in mine. I looked over the numerous, colorful charts and graphs and instead focused on the blinking red rectangle in the corner of the screen.

**TESSERACT LOACTED: LONDON, ENGLAND**

There was a small yet very detailed map below the blinking words, which indicated the Tesseract's exact location with a small flashing white dot.

"London, huh?" I said, raising a hand up to the screen. I played around with a couple of things, pretending I knew what the hell I was doing, and managed to enlarge the map; not bad Barnes, not bad.

"Miss Barnes?" Fury said as if he had just noticed my existence. "What the _hell _are you doing up?" He asked, pushing back the black leather of his jacket as he rested his hands on his hips.

"I uh…had some bad berries," I said, giving Stark a sideways glance as he winked a hazel eye at me.

Just then, the lab door slid open yet again, this time welcoming in Agent Romanoff. "Any news, sir?" she asked Fury, also stepping in without greeting.

"London," I blurted out before Fury had a chance to answer.

The red-haired agent raised a cleanly pencil brow at me, folding her arms over her chest. "Do we have exact whereabouts?" She asked me, looking focused and expectant. I was taken aback for a second. She was looking to me for information now. I guess I really was being initiated into the group.

I cleared my throat, standing up straighter as I directed my attention back to the screen to examine the map, trying to understand as much as I could from its tangled complexity. "The Tesseract seems to be in some sort of unused tunnel in London. It's currently stationary, doesn't seem to be on the move. Here, take a look," I said, turning the screen towards Agent Romanoff.

Just as the agent took the screen in her direction, the door gave another high-pitched beep, and in ambled Dr. Banner. "What's up? I got a…signal," he said, adjusting the lenses on his face.

"The cube's in an abandoned tunnel in London," I said, as he stood behind Agent Romanoff, scanning the map with his eyes.

"Fury, if you've got a plan, then I think you should probably get a move on," the doctor advised, "There's no telling how long we can keep this thing on the map."

"Dr. Banner's right, sir," Steve interjected, "It doesn't seem like we've got that big of a time frame; we should get a move on."

"Alright, Rogers, Stark, I'm calling you two in on this one," Fury ordered, "I'll call Thor down too."

Steve's jaw hardened. He was obviously not happy with Tony being his 'partner' (I had no idea why Steve had anything against Stark), but the blonde nodded his head anyways. He wasn't one to complain about such elementary things. He would find a way to cooperate with Stark, the way great soldiers always did. There was one thing that I couldn't understand, though. Why hadn't Fury put _me_ on the mission?

By the time I had gathered my thoughts, Fury was already heading for the door. "Nick," I called, making him stop abruptly. He sighed deeply, turning around on his heel, and faced me.

"No."

Was I really that predictable? I swallowed hard, trying not to lose my composure, "Why the hell not?!" Okay, maybe I didn't keep my composure after all.

"You had one training session, Barnes, _one_," He said frantically, shaking his head.

"Yeah, you're right. One training session along with some countless months of _war_," I stressed, "Come on, I can help. I can really help."

"Yeah, come on, _Nick_," Tony said, walking next to me. "She's Lady America; give her some credit, would you?" He said, nudging me in the arm. I cracked a smile at the cheesy nickname. Not everyone was in the mood for jokes, though.

Steve gently grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me away from Tony and Fury, "Marty," he said in a whisper, "are you sure you want to jump back into all of this? I don't know if you're ready…I mean your body, are you even adapted yet?"

He had good reasons to be worried about me. Just last night I was sobbing into his shoulder, telling him how scared and confused I was, but fighting was what I needed to get my feet back on the ground. "The hell with my body, I'll be fine—"

"Marty—"

"Steve, listen, right now I'm not sure about a lot of things, okay? But this…" I said, releasing a deep breath, looking up into his uneasy face, "this is _all _I'm sure about right now. I'm ready."

My captain opened his mouth to speak, but Fury took the floor. "Fine," the director said in defeat. Steve and I immediately rejoined the group as Fury continued talking, "Rogers keep an eye on her—

"Right," Steve responded immediately.

"—and Barnes, don't make me regret this." Fury warned, staring down both of my eyes with his one.

"Got it," I assured him, saluting him before he strode out of the lab.

"I'll meet you guys on the flight deck," Agent Romanoff said, following the director out of the lab.

"And us three? What do we do?" I asked, resting my hands on my hips as I looked from Tony to Steve.

Steve nodded his head in the direction of the door, "We suit up."

…

I was sitting down on the metal springs of my mattress, leaning down to zip up the boots of my stolen uniform when the door of my room slid open.

"So, what do you think?" Steve's voice said. I looked up from my muddy boot tips and up at my captain. He stood in the doorway, sheepishly looking down at his star spangled uniform as he stepped into the room.

"Oh," I said, looking over the incredibly changed uniform. The fabric was not as I remembered it. It seemed less padded and more bullet proof. It was tougher and thicker, clinging to his muscles, giving him an even stronger vibe than the last uniform did. I noticed he also wore different shoes and gloves, which were crimson red. They did keep the important things, though. Like the star and stripes that decorated his chest, and the white 'A' that was printed on the front of his headpiece. I grabbed my shotgun from off the bed and adjusted it on my belt, "It's nice. Sure, it's tighter in some…areas, but I think it suits you."

"Really?" He asked, looking up at me unsurely.

"Sure," I said instantly, walking over to him. I stood in front of Steve, taking in his uniform, his presence, his familiarity. "I think…" I began, noticing that he had forgotten to zip up his uniform all the way. There was still a little patch of skin showing at his neck. I thought maybe I should do it for him. Should I? Would that be pushing it, jumping to conclusions? But, I wanted to make sure he would be completely protected out there on the battlefield. Plus, I wanted to get closer to him. I wasn't going to sit there and lie to myself; I liked being close to Steve. So, that's what I did.

"I think," I repeated quietly, raising my hands up to his collar, "you look like a captain." I zipped up his uniform, looking up into his blue eyes. My stomach gave a flutter, which was becoming a habit. It was a habit that I both hated and kind of liked, but mostly hated because it made me feel so…well because it made me feel in general.

This whole emotional thing was not something I was familiar with, but if I_ was_ in love with someone, if I _did_ feel the urge to kiss them, and if my stomach insisted on flurrying and my face had no choice but to heat up when I got this close, then hell, I was glad it was goofball.

Steve stared down at me, his face blank. I wondered whether or not he was thinking the same things as me, but even _I_ couldn't get a read on him. Then, when I thought the silence would be endless, he spoke, "What were you doing up, with Stark, I mean?"

I was taken aback by his question. I looked down onto his chest, placing a hand on the silver star that it bared. I thought about telling him about the flashbacks, but I didn't want him to worry. He probably didn't even think I was having flashbacks anyways; he had mentioned Stark in his question. "What do you _think_ I was doing with Stark?" I asked skeptically, looking back up at him.

He cleared his throat, his eyes meeting the ceiling as he shrugged, "I-I well stuff…not that it would matter to me if you two were you know…."

"Would it really not?" I asked, feeling my stomach sink so low it might've ended up in my boots, "Would it really not matter if Stark and I…did whatever it was you think we did?" I reworded. All night, the only thought that had continued racing through my head was the thought of me being in love with Steve, with Steve being in love with me, and now I was being told that he didn't even care if I was off with some other guy? This is why I hated the emotion thing; it was so frustrating. Why was he acting like this anyways…?

Steve still hadn't answered me. He stood motionless, his disappointed eyes locked with my confused ones, his mouth shut tight and thin, holding back his words, whatever they were**…. **Then, all of the sudden, he sighed deeply. "Hurry up, we haven't got much time," he ordered formally, turning away so that my hand slipped off his chest.

_Beep._

The door unclosed and without looking back, Steve marched out of the small room and into the brightly lit hall, leaving me hopelessly confused in my gray SHIELD bedroom and my question unanswered.

**...**

Once we were suited up and ready to go, we all boarded the jet. Natasha sat in the pilot's seat, an assistant by her side. Steve stood beside Natasha, leaning over her chair slightly. They were probably taking about the flight ahead, but I didn't know; Steve was barely making eye contact with me. This random tension between me and Steve might've been lifted just a bit if Stark was around, but he preferred to fly to London on his own. He had a suit, didn't he? He might as well use it.

Thor, the man who I had learned from Natasha just a couple minutes before he had entered the jet was Loki's brother, stood in one of the corners of the aircraft. I had never met him before. He had shoulder length, stringy blonde hair; his eyes were determined and bright. His biceps were nearly twice the size of Steve's, big, strong, his veins visible. If all that wasn't enough for him to stand out, he had a silver hammer the size of my face held tightly in his grasp and a freaking cape; yes, a cape.

Despite all these things that made him seem very intimidating and daunting, he wore a soft kindhearted smile as we introduced ourselves, and was actually a really nice fella. He had chuckled at my ridiculous, apparently very tiny, 'mortal height', but that was before we had gotten into the subject of Loki.

"What do you think he plans to do next?" I had asked him as Natasha prepared the plane for takeoff.

"My brother works in mysterious ways, he is not an easy thing to predict," he had answered in a very deep tone.

"Tell me about it."

"But he has plans, I am sure," he spoke. "Loki craves power; the sooner we figure out his schemes the sooner we can stop him from getting his hands on more weapons."

"Weapons?" I had asked, raising a brow.

"He is preparing an army and his men have the Tesseract," the demi-god went on, "Who knows what other weapons he will add to his arsenal."

More weapons…but Loki already had the Tesseract, and that was supposed to be the strongest weapon in the universe. What could Loki possibly want that he already didn't have?


	12. The Tunnel Chase

_***Hey guys, what's up? Hope you're doing well. So, here's 12. Pretty action packed, I think. I just wanna address a couple of things. **_

_**A lot of you seem to be pretty confused about the whole Fury issue. You're saying you don't get why he's so against her and everything, but I just wanna let you know that there is a reason behind it all, and I'm planning on revealing that to you in a couple of chapters. I hope you guys are enjoying so far, though. I know sequels can fall short sometimes, and it would kinda suck if this was! Haha, anyways that's all for now. Thanks for reviewing have a lovely day! **_

_**-Noor xx***_

**Marty**

The rest of the plane ride was spent, for me, leaning up against the wall with my arms tightly folded over my chest, and my eyes glued on Steve. He had barely spent a total of 20 seconds looking at me the whole time. He just stood, with his bright, blue back to me as he talked to Natasha about battle plans and other things I couldn't quite hear over the sound of the jet flying.

'Gee Steve; you're standing within two feet of another woman! That probably means you two are reciting your vows to each other and planning your honeymoon to fucking Fiji!,' I thought, diverting my eyes away from the pair of them and looking to the gray, softly rumbling floor. I released a huffy breath, shaking my head. I didn't want to be mad at Steve. We were just reunited a day ago; it was way too early to feel anything but affection for the idiot right now.

Idiot, huh…?

Then I a thought dawned on me; what if I was the idiot? Maybe, after just starting to think I had serious feeling towards Steve, shouldn't have asked Stark to show me his Arc Reactor….?

Wait, no; how dumb was that?! It's not like Steve and I were preparing our wedding arrangements and viewing houses. I wasn't even sure if whatever the hell these feeling were, were even love. There was no crime in asking Tony to show me anything. It was innocent, and Steve was making it seem like a felony.

At these thoughts, I felt my frustration rise. I tightened my arms so closely to my chest it was starting to hurt, and continued to burn more holes in the floor. "Miss Barnes," Thor's deep and quiet voice rang. I raised my eyes, looking across at him.

"What?" I asked with more edge than intended. I cleared my throat, and tried to simmer down, "Sorry…yeah?"

"You and the Captain," he said after a moment, looking over at the blonde, "are you courting?"

I scrunched up my face in confusion. Courting…what the hell did 'courting' mean? Then it hit me. "Oh, no…no courtship here. There_ is_ a shitload of confusion, though."

He chuckled deeply.

"Why do you ask?" I proceeded to ask him.

He shrugged his broad, muscular shoulders, "It is as plain as day, is all."

"Wha—" I began, but Agent Romanoff's voice cut me off.

"It's time," She called over her shoulder, talking over the plane's endless humming.

"Right," I said, giving her a single nod of my head.

This was it, my first mission. Well, technically speaking it's my second if you add me handing Loki his ass, but this was my first _authorized_ mission. For some unknown reason, Fury hated me, now _that_ is what you call 'plain as day'. Whatever reasons the director had for sighing whenever I walked into a room, or rolling his eye every time I opened my mouth, this mission was going to change his mind. I was going to get the Tesseract, and he was going to take me seriously.

"Alright, listen up," Steve said in a leading tone, finally turning around and facing us, "We're gonna drop down in parachutes, we need to make a silent entrance so they don't figure us out."

"I have no need for this…parachute. Mjolnir will do more than suffice," Thor replied, raising his hammer slightly.

So it had a name too; neat.

"Right," Steve replied, slowly moving his eyes towards me, "Just you and me then."

I nodded my head, "Just you and me…."

"Guys, this is it; I've lowered us as much as we can go," Natasha persisted, turning her eyes away from the sky for only a moment, "And Cap."

"Yes?" Steve said, looking back at the red-haired agent.

"The cube's not the only thing you're going down to retrieve," she said, as if reminding him of something.

"Right," was his reply, and without wasting another second, he rushed over to the parachutes that were lined up in the back of the plane. He handed one to me, then taking one for him. We both strapped them on. "Ready?" He asked me. The awkward tension was still tight enough to cut with a knife, but Steve took a step closer to me and made sure the front belt of my parachute was secure anyways.

I blushed stupidly, gently pushing his gloved hand away. His face dropped in a pang of guilt; he was so confusing sometimes. "Yeah, I'm ready," I said flatly, turning away from him.

The door of the plane was already descending, revealing a warm cloudy night. Thor stood at the edge, his blonde locks whipping in the wind. He spun his hammer so quickly in his hand that I could barley make out its shape anymore. Then, with a single glance back at the two of us, he extended his hammer out in front of him, and jetted off into the clouds.

I was next. I marched over to the edge of the door, peering down into the silvery, fast moving clouds and stars. Then, without bothering to look back at Steve, I leapt out of the jet. I fell through the night; the only sound audible was that of the wind rushing through my ears. I examined the brightly-lit city below me, but unfortunately, I didn't have much time to sightsee; I had to focus on landing without breaking my ankles. I pulled the plastic handle on my backpack, and out came the parachute, jerking me back up into the air slightly.

I descended gently onto what seemed like a small park of some sort. Once I had both feet on the ground and made sure the rest of my body was still intact, I took of the backpack, leaving it stranded on the damp grass; that's when Steve appeared. He landed about a half-a-mile away from me at the other side of the park. He tore off his backpack and began jogging towards me, his shield in one hand and a shotgun in the other. "Hey," he said, slightly out of breath, "You forgot your gun." He handed my shotgun over to me.

I awkwardly cleared my throat, taking it from his hand without a single word. Steve sighed deeply, shaking his head, "Marty, listen, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine, Steve," I said at once, realizing that my attitude might've been a little unnecessary, but I didn't drop it.

"No, it's not. Marty, I was being an idiot—" he persisted, but not getting to an actual point.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know, Cap."

"Mar—"

"Can we just focus on the mission?" I cut him off again, trying really hard not to snap.

"Bu—"

"Please?" I begged, looking him straight in the eye. He released a deep breath and nodded his head.

Just then, Steve pressed his finger up to his earpiece, his facial expression changing from remorseful and sad to focused and military, "Where are you guys…yeah…get to the point Stark...yes she's with me—" He sighed, looking over at me, "Stark says 'hi'."

I smiled slightly, shaking my head as Steve went back to listening in.

"Right, we'll be right there," Steve concluded, pulling his finger away.

"So?" I asked, my eagerness and curiosity washing away every other feeing I was having at the moment.

"They've already found the tunnel, they're waiting on us, we gotta go," he said hastily, gripping his shield tightly in his hand.

So, with that, we hurried across the wet grassy park and started towards the tunnel. The tunnel was visible from where we were standing, but the rest of the team was nowhere in sight. We headed towards the underground channel and quietly made our way into it. It was dark, only a few of the lights actually worked, glowing dimly over the graffiti-covered, round walls. We walked deeper into the tunnel, trying to be as quiet as we could as we hurried over the damp, cracked pavement. Then suddenly, Steve gently placed his hand on my stomach, stopping me from walking any further.

"What?" I whispered, as we hid behind one of the walls.

"We got 'em," Steve muttered back, peering out of the wall. I leaned over him slightly, trying to see.

There they were; Loki's men. They stood beside a large black van; you know the kinds they use to kidnap kids in the movie. The two backs doors were swung wide open, and Steve and I had a clear view of what was going on inside. There was a middle-aged man in a flannel shirt, his eyes glowing with the unnatural blue of the Tesseract's hypnotizing power. He leaned over a small metal table, and lying on that table was none other than the Tesseract. There it sat, in all its lethal beauty, as the man tampered with it. I wasn't sure what he was doing exactly, but he had a whole bunch of nuts and bolts on that table; he could've' been doing anything really.

"Who's that fella?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"Eric Selvig; he used to work for SHIELD, but looks like Loki got to him." He answered.

Then suddenly, Steve pressed his fingers to his ear again, his face hard and focused. "Yeah, we found them…wait what do you mean you're going in?! Stark we need to plan—" But Steve's hushed efforts were no use.

There was a loud, sonic kind of sound echoing out throughout the tunnel. Loki's men stirred worriedly. Then suddenly a crimson and gold suit of armor came zooming in through the round walls. It flew right past Steve and I, making my hair whip over my eyes. Thor followed in after him just as quickly. The suit landed in front of the truck of now taken aback men. It stood up straight and tall, raised it shining arms up to the men's eye level, now baring numerous weapons and guns on the arms and shoulders, and Tony Stark ignited the spark to the flame, "Can we hurry this up, fellas; I'm meeting Elizabeth later for tea; hate to be late."

The battle was on. Steve and I charged into the quickly heating fight. Loki's men, now armed with all different kind of weapons, were no longer standing around, but were fighting back, and strong. I took on a couple of men, feeling my newly toned muscles contract in unfamiliar yet powerful ways. I didn't find it hard to move with my new body. My punches still swung fast, swift, and even stronger than before. I managed to knock out two men with just my knuckles and the butt of my gun, but those were the only men I had time to fight, because there was something else that caught my attention.

Eric Selvig had abandoned the Tesseract and was now hiding in the back of the truck, full of fear. The cube, that had been lying their unsupervised, was now being transported into a silver briefcase by a different man. He was younger than Selvig, with light brown hair that stood up slightly. However, his eyes were the same unnatural blue. He was dressed in all black; the sleeves on his shirt were cut right at his shoulders, so that his large muscular arms were visible. I wondered why his arms were so toned, but then I noticed the arrows that lay in a quiver on his back and the high-tech bow that hung from his shoulder; he was an archer. This guy was familiar; I had seen his face before, but where….

Then it all came rushing back to me. That was Clint Barton, the brainwashed SHIELD agent I had read about back in Steve's apartment. I recalled what Agent Romanoff had said to Steve back in the jet, _"The cube's not the only thing you're going down to retrieve."_

She was talking about Barton, her fellow agent, and now he was going to get away with the Tesseract; not on my watch.

I watched as he finished securing the Tesseract into its special briefcase. Then, without looking back at the other men, or the older one in the flannel shirt, he marched out of the truck, and discreetly began to make haste down the tunnel; I couldn't let him get too far.

Leaving the battle in the capable hands of a genius, a super strong veteran, and a Norse god, I quickly began following Clint Barton down the rounded walls of the tunnel.

**Steve**

Another man fell to the impact of my shield, dropping onto the damp asphalt of the tunnel floor. I glanced up from the ground, looking past Stark, who was busy blasting a few men off their feet, past Thor, who was hitting anyone who dared cross his path in the chin with his hammer, and searched for the only woman here. I tried to spot her familiar jabs and battle techniques through the chaos, but there was no Marty to be found.

My stomach flipped anxiously as I diverted my eyes to the floor, thinking for a moment that maybe she had been knocked out or something, but Marty didn't lie on the street either. I spun around, searching frantically for her short, brown hair and blue eyes, and then I finally caught a glimpse of her, but only a glimpse. She was quickly walking down the other end of the tunnel, and in front of her was a man I didn't recognize. He walked with haste, holding a silver briefcase in his hand. But why was she following him, what was in that briefcase?

Could it be…no….

I tore my eyes away from Marty and the man to look inside the truck, the truck that I realized no longer held the Tesseract.

Yes, yes it could be.

Of course Marty would go after the Tesseract, it was just like her. I should've known!

Without a second thought, I gripped my shield tighter in my grasp and began rushing through the dimly-lit tunnel, with Fury's words still echoing in my head, _"Rogers, keep an eye on her."_

**Marty**

I began to trace the archer's steps, but I had barely followed him for a meter before the agent spun around with an arrow readily positioned in his bow, pulled back his arm, and released. I quickly hit the concrete, blocking the arrow's direct attack, but this was no ordinary arrow. It landed right in the stone wall; there was a faint repetitive beeping, and then the arrow exploded, sending bits of the wall flying all over my back. By the time the dust and rubble had cleared and I could regain composure, Barton had already bolted until the end of the tunnel.

I quickly sprung up from the ground and began racing after him. Running; it had always been my specialty, but the new strength I had been forced upon had made me even faster than before. I was practically flying; my boots barely grazed the asphalt. I could see Barton, clear as day in front of me. I didn't know how he was doing it, but even while running, he managed to shoot arrow after arrow my way, blowing up the tunnel walls around me. The stones hit my face, I could feel my skin tearing, but I ignored the stinging, keeping my eyes locked on the briefcase.

I needed to slow him down, weaken him. I suddenly stooped in my tracks, skidding over the wet pavement. I raised my shotgun, aimed for his shoulder and quickly, before he had a chance to get away, pulled the trigger. Immediately, I knew the bullet had met its target. Barton stopped abruptly, his left, now injured shoulder jerked forward. He clutched it tightly with his hand, but still continued to drag his feet along. So, I tried again, aiming and pulling the trigger once again. This time, it was too much for the agent to keep going. He stumbled forward at first, but eventually fell to his knees. The briefcase slipped out of his hand, landing a few feet away from him. I took advantage of his ailment and ran over to him. I looked down into his pained face, "Hey Barton," I said, slightly out of breath.

"Who the hell are you?" He choked out, looking up with Tesseract-blue eyes.

"The newbie; you don't know me," I replied, walking over to the briefcase, and taking it into my hand. "Sorry we had to meet like this but—" I stopped mid-sentence, not being able to voice anymore words.

It felt like I had just smashed into a wall. I didn't know what the hell was happening to me at that moment, but my heart sped up really fast one minute, and then the next it slowed to a dangerous speed. Cold sweat had broken out on my forehead. My vision was now going cloudy and black, the graffiti-covered walls faded in and out. I felt my whole body begin to tremble and shudder, and before I knew it, I was falling to the asphalt. I think I hit my head pretty hard, but I wasn't sure; I had gone entirely limp, drained to my last drop of energy. It was as if every organ in my body was quickly shutting down, dying, and abandoning me. My head felt heavy, the tunnel was spinning, and the last thing I saw before everything went black was Clint Barton's fingers curling around the handle of the briefcase.


	13. Moonlight Serenade

***_Hey guys, another late chapter. Are you surprised? Neither am I..._**

**_Anyways, here's 13. Hope you like this one. It has the song that I used in the first Lady America, Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. So, if you want, I recommend you put it on when you get to that part. Could give it a little more feel. _**

**_On another note. FUCKING IRON MAN 3 IS OUT IN JORDAN AHHHH. But I can't see it yet. I don't know when I can go and ugh I need to see it before I implode with excitement and anticipation. Everyone is saying that it was the best shit on Earth and I have to see it. Fingers crossed I can go soon. Hope you all get a chance to see Robert and Pepperony and all the beauty in 3D! _**

**_Okay, that's all for this time, folks! See yah reeeeaaaal soon! (Mickey Mouse impression. Someone shoot me already)._**

**_-Noor xx_**

**Steve**

You know, I was never the most gifted of guys. I was just this little kid from Brooklyn; never good at anything, never good for anything. Then, the war came along, and I finally found myself. I was meant to protect, to do what was right, and I was actually good at it. From way back in the 40's all the way until present day, I was doing pretty well with that job; until last night. Last night I failed, I let someone down, someone I cared about; Marty.

When I ran after Marty in the tunnel last night, after seeing her chase that unfamiliar man with Tesseract down (I found out later that night that he was Clint Barton, the brainwashed SHEILD agent, the one Agent Romanoff had told me about in the jet), I found her motionless on the floor. I had frozen in my tracks, taking in the sight of her on the damp asphalt. I ran up to her and immediately kneeled by her side. I tried calling her name a few times, but she wouldn't budge. Her eyes stayed shut even as I shook her limp body. I pressed my ear to her chest, praying to god there would be a beat to greet it. There was an unsettlingly faint beating, but I still placed my fingers up to her neck just to make sure; she was alive, but completely unconscious.

I had no idea what happened to her. All I knew was that there was a trail of rubble scattered around the ground leading up to her body that looked like they were blown right of the walls. There was also some blood splattered on the ground as well, but it wasn't from Marty; I checked. The blood had to be from Barton, but whatever injury he had, it didn't matter; he got away anyways.

After finding no use in endlessly shaking her, I finally gave up. Instead, I scooped her up in my arms and turned around to head back to Stark and Thor. The whole way back through the tunnel, as I stepped over the blown bits of rock on the floor, keeping Marty's neck and legs positioned securely in my hands, I couldn't stop thinking about what Fury had said, how he told me to keep an eye on her. I was supposed to protect Marty, I was supposed to make sure she got out safely, and instead I started a fight over something so dumb and petty. I let Fury down, I let myself down, and I let Marty down.

When I reached them, the fight was already over. Loki's men littered the road and Eric Selvig was handcuffed, ready to be taken into custody. When we made it back to the Helicarrier, Marty was still out cold. So, they sent her down to the medical center. I wasn't allowed to see her, though; they were running tests or something like that. So, I went over to the only other place I knew other than my bedroom and the main command center; Stark and Banner's lab. I didn't know why I went over there, but I didn't really have anywhere else _to_ go.

The door beeped open and I let myself into the brightly-lit lab. Tony and Bruce were at their usual positions. Banner stood behind one of the tables, working away with the equipment. Stark was at a screen, his hands busy away at charts and calculations, things I couldn't understand if my life depended on it. They were back right where they started; searching for the cube.

Stark moved his hazel eyes away from the screen for a moment, glancing over at me. "How is she?" He asked, and I think it was the first time I didn't hear any sarcasm or edge in his voice. The moment he had seen Marty limp in my hands back in the tunnel, his helmet had come flying off. He tried to act causal when he had asked what happened to her, and I might've believed it too, if Marty wasn't so easy to like. Stark barely knew Marty, but I didn't blame him for already worrying about her; it was so hard not to get attached.

"Still sleepin'; they don't know how long until she's up," I said, leaning against one of the metal tables, folding my arms over my chest, "no thanks to me," I added, feeling my stomach sink with regret.

"Hey, what's buggin' you, Cap?" Tony asked with fully renewed sarcasm.

I sighed, directing my eyes to the gray floor, slowly shaking my head, "I had orders to keep an eye on her; I should've saved her." I muttered, mostly to myself.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, pal. From where I'm standing, it seems like you always got an eye on her. Actually, you pretty much have both eyes on her most of the time," he said with a smirk, his eyes not leaving the screen for a second.

"What are you going on about, Stark?" I asked exasperatedly. I really wasn't in the mood to hear him talk, but there was the smallest ounce of curiosity that nodded in my head.

"And may I just say, green doesn't suit you – at all." He went on, making that ounce of curiosity in my head only grow.

"_Stark_?" I persisted.

"Give me a break, Captain," Tony said, "I mean, I know you don't really get what I talk about half the time, but this is pretty self-explanatory."

It took me a moment to register what he had said, but it finally clicked. "You think I have feelings for Marty?"

"Head over heels, if you ask me," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, I'm not asking," I retorted.

"At ease, soldier. I'm just saying, your guys' Nicholas Sparks moment outside the lab when you 'reunited', the whole jealousy thing, and now your beating yourself up because she probably fainted from, I don't know, low blood sugar." He listed, cocking his head to side. "Even Bruce thinks so, right?" He said, looking over at the doctor.

Bruce, who seemed perfectly content with his silence the entire time, finally forced his eyes away from his work. He shrugged his shoulders and slowly shook his head, "I uh…I'm not really an expert in this kind of…" he trailed of awkwardly, adjusting the glasses on his face, though they were perfectly fine before.

"And what makes _you _such an expert, Stark?" I asked mockingly, looking over to the brunette again.

"Didn't you read the debriefing packet, Cap; I'm a genius," was his modest response.

I rolled my eyes with a sigh, and turned my attention to Stark's screen, hoping to change the subject. "How's the search coming along, anything new?" I asked them both, walking over to Tony and planting myself beside him.

"Not really, we lost the track on the cube, though. We're working on getting it back," Banner informed.

But just as he said it, I noticed something odd about Tony's screen. The graphs and the charts were suddenly gone. In their place was a gray box with the words 'Accessing Files…' at the top. The box had a thing green bar through the center that grew by the second. I didn't know what that meant exactly, but I did know that this wasn't what looking for the Tesseract was supposed to look like; Stark was up to something.

"This doesn't look a hell of a lot like a search, Stark," I said firmly, scanning over the screen.

"Very good, Captain. You want a sticker?" He mocked, smirking over at me.

We kept our eyes locked on each other's for a moment, staring the other down. My jaw was clenched tight with tension, but Stark's indifferent and sarcastic attitude was wiped all over his familiar face. Then finally, I spoke, "What are you accessing?"

"Oh, you know, just all of SHIELD'S private files, information,plans, if you will," He said, as if stealing Homeland Security's confidential files was just any other ordinary activity.

"Why? What do you need with those?" I asked skeptically, crossing my arms over my chest.

"The real question is what does SHIELD need with the Tesseract anyways?" He countered, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"What do you mean?" I persisted.

"They tell us to find the cube. Okay – what were they doing with it before? This thing's the most powerful energy seen to man." He elaborated. "It just doesn't add up, and I know math. Bruce think's something up too, don't you?" He said, turning his attention to the doctor.

Bruce glanced up from his station once again, and said warily, "Uh… I just wanna finish my work."

"Doctor Banner's right, Stark; stay focused." I said, trying to push all this SHIELD suspicion into the back of my already jam-packed head. "

"So, you _don't_ think Fury's up to something?" Tony asked, "Captain, he's a spy, he's _the_ spy; his secrets have secrets."

I sighed, trying to ignore the fact that he did actually have a point.

"Steve," Banner's voice suddenly rang out. I looked over at him as he pulled his glasses off his face. "Tell me none of this seems a little suspicious."

They were right, I knew they were, but there were more important things to worry about than some theories. I looked at the pair of them, "Just find the cube." Then without saying another word, I walked right out of the lab as my mental list of worries and issues only grew longer and longer….

**Marty**

I shifted around in the darkness. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel. As I moved around I felt a sense of warmth beneath me, smoothness. There was something else too; it was loud and sharp, like a needle being pushed in and out of your skin. It was pain; I was sure of it, but why was it making so much sound?

I tossed and turned on the smoothness once again, and the opaque darkness gradually began to lighten up, letting in images. I must've been opening my eyes, because now the blackness was gone and I was staring up into a white ceiling with an even whiter light. The pain was still there, that's for sure, but it was less loud. It was, however, stronger and sharper than before, and it was coming from my temples.

After gaining composure for a bit, I realized that the smoothness I had felt was actually a bed; I was sleeping, but why….? Then, it all came rushing back. I remembered the tunnel, chasing Barton, the sudden wave of fatigue and energy drain, and the sight of him taking the briefcase in his hands.

I slowly sat up, taking a good look around me now. I wasn't the only bed in the room. It was lined with white-sheeted bed after white-sheeted bed. There were a couple of people occupying mattresses, but most of them were empty. There were also a few people in a long white coats walking around; they were the doctors, no doubt. I had so many questions zooming in my head, but with the familiar face of Joseph Richards walking towards me, I had a feeling they were soon going to be answered.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight of the brunette walking towards me, his spotless coat contrasting against his slightly tanned skin. "You're up," he said, smiling down at me.

"And you're employed…surprisingly," I said with a soft laugh. I couldn't believe he was still here. Even after breaking every rule imaginable to take me to Stuttgart, Joseph still had his job; thank god.

"I know right," he said, pushing his hands into the pockets on his coat, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm swell, doc. Um, what happened to me exactly?" I asked curiously. "Why did I just _drop_ out there?"

"Actually, that's what we need you to tell us. I was waiting for you to wake up and tell me what you felt. Rogers informed me that he found you lying on the floor next to some blood, but you have no open wounds, just some bruises and scratches."

"And a bitch of a head ache," I added, making him chuckle. "So, Rogers is alright?"

"Sure is."

"Stark and Thor?"

"Alive and working."

I sighed with relief, "So, we didn't get the cube, huh?"

"I'm afraid not. You seem to be the one with the most information, though. So, Marty, I'm gonna need you to tell me exactly what happened down in that tunnel, alright?" He asked calmly, looking me in the eye.

I nodded my aching head, "Yeah, no problem."

I started from the moment we landed in England all the way until Barton got away with the Tesseract. It was kind of hard to remember everything that happened exactly; I must've hit my head pretty hard. There was one thing, however, that I could recall down to the last detail; my fall. When I had suddenly gone weak back in the tunnel, it didn't feel like just any old case of low blood sugar. It was serious and, to be honest, kinda scary.

The thing is, even though I remembered everything I felt before hitting the asphalt, I didn't dare tell Joseph. I mean what if I was sick or something? That information would surely reach Fury, and he'd never let me go on another mission again. I'm already such a big ass burden already, and I have _no_ intentions of being shipped back to New York anytime soon. So, I kept my details to myself and told Joseph I simply felt dizzy and passed out.

"That's all you remember?" Joseph asked as he looked up from the notepad in his lap. He had been jotting notes down the whole time I was talking.

"It's all still pretty fuzzy," I said apologetically, "if anything comes back, I'll let yah know."

"Thank you," he said, flipping the notepad and clicking the pen closed.

"So…when can I get outta here?" I asked eagerly.

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Always in a rush, aren't you?"

"Well…."

"Why don't you stay and rest a little more, get something to eat, freshen up a bit?" He suggested.

"No, really I'm as healthy as a horse," I said, already throwing the covers off of me and swinging my legs over the mattress. I realized I was still in my stained and dusty SHIELD uniform and my boots sat at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, hope you don't mind the uniform. They, uh, they wanted to put you in a gown, but I told them you wouldn't like it." Joseph added.

"You're right; I would have _hated_ it," I stated, reaching over to grab my boots.

"Sure you want to go off so quickly?" he asked uneasily.

"Positive," I said, slipping on the boots and zipping them up. "But thank you," I said rising from the bed, "for everything."

"Anytime."

So, I was off. I left the medical center and when out into the hall. I'd never been to this wing of the ship before, but I was starting to get the hang of the way everything worked. So, in no time at all, I made my way through the maze-like halls and found myself in the center of the ship, where I usually am. I wondered where I should go from there. I thought for a second that maybe I should head over to my room, get a change of close, but the sky outside the windows was night, and there was something else I needed to do before everyone turned it; see Steve.

We fought before the battle the other night, and we needed to make amends. Now, though, I had to talk to him about something else; my fall. As I was leaving the medical center, passing by countless agents and guards, a thought occurred to me. Maybe I shouldn't keep this secret a secret. Maybe I should tell someone about what I felt before everything went black. It'd be safer not just for me, but for the people around me, and who better to trust with a secret than good old Steve. Sure, he'd probably make a fuss about it, but he'd come through eventually and keep quiet.

So, hoping I could catch him before he slept, I hurried down the gray hall and towards his room. I hastily made my way past labs and store rooms, but as I approached Steve's door, something reached my ears. I stood for a moment in front of the door listening…it was music, our kind of music. It seeped through the metal with such sweet familiarity that I actually just stood there, leaning against the door frame, listening in before actually raising my hand and knocking on the door.

I heard the music cease and then there door beeped open.

**Steve**

The last person I was expecting to knock at my door at midnight was a supposedly unconscious Marty, but there she stood in the doorway, practically glowing with health. "How come you turned off the tunes?" She asked without greeting, simply strolling into my room.

"I uh…I didn't think it was you," I replied, slightly taken aback as I closed the door behind her.

"Sorry, did I interrupt?" She asked once I turned around, her eyes scanning my bare chest.

"Oh, yeah, I was um…changing," I said as my face began to grow hot, realizing I had forgotten to put a shirt on.

She giggled, tossing me the plain white shirt that was lying on the bed. I caught it, quickly slipping it over my head and shoulders. "When'd you wake up?" I asked.

"Just now – gee, why can't I get one of these?" She jumped to the subject of the music again, walking over to the record player that lay on the nightstand. "Where'd you get this?"

"Agent Coulson thought it would be good for me to have one, he said it might make me feel at home," I said, walking to her side as she began to toy with the record. "You know Coulson, right?"

"We're uh…aquatinted, yeah," she said shiftily, taking the black disc in her hands. "Moonlight Serenade, Glenn Miller," she read the record slowly. "Oh, we know this one," she said as a smile spread on her face.

"Yeah, it does sound familiar," I said, nodding my head. "How are you feeling, though? What did the doctors say?"

"They _think_ I fainted," she stressed, making me go curious.

"What do you mean _think_—?"

"Does it?" She asked suddenly, cutting me off, looking up at me.

"Wha…what does what?" I said, confusedly.

"The record player, does it make you feel at home?" She elaborated, her eyes still locked on mine.

"Well, sorta. I mean, it's not the same but that's not the point. Marty what do you mean they _think—?_"

"Maybe you'll feel more at home if you don't just listen to the song; maybe you need to feel it? Oh gosh, that sounded so lame," she said with a laugh. We were obviously on completely different pages.

I sighed, "Marty, sweetheart, you need to answer me oka—?"

"Whoa there, soldier!" She said, suddenly. "Did you just call me 'sweetheart'?" She asked, narrowing her eyes, smiling slyly.

The blood rushed from my face with the realization. Why did I just call her that? Oh yeah – _I'm an idiot._ "I-It was a…accident," I said, not knowing exactly why I was apologizing, but I didn't know what else to say.

"No – it's fine; I kinda like it."

"You do—?"

"Dance with me," she asked out of the blue.

"Dance?" I repeated, struggling to keep up with her.

"You know, when someone plays music and then you kinda move your feet to the beat…" she rambled on, placing the record back in the player, and lowering the needle on to its shiny surface. The familiar music began to play, starting out soft and calm. "Come on, _sweetheart_," she urged, teasingly.

I chuckled, not even bothering to fight the smile that crept on to my face, "Why not?"

So, I let her lead me to the center of the room. She stood in front of me and wrapped her arms around my neck with only little hesitation. I just sort of stood there awkwardly, my stomach twisting and knotting in all sorts of uncomfortable ways. She sighed, taking her hands away from my neck for a moment to lead mine to her waist. "It musta been a pretty hard hit into the ice if you forgot how to dance," she said with a laugh.

"Right," I said awkwardly, clearing my throat.

"Loosen up, Cap," she said, swaying slightly, "You've seen me naked, you goof. I'm pretty sure we're past a dancing level of comfort." She added, wrapping her arms around my neck again.

I chuckled, nodding my head, and tried to allow myself to actually move to the music with her. "No tiptoes, huh?" I said trying to spark a conversation and glanced down at her feet that were perfectly planted on the ground. Normally she would have to give herself a little boost to reach me.

"Told you I got taller," she said, proudly.

And that's when the conversation ended thanks to my amazing social skills, and we just ended up dancing for the next few minutes. After a while I actually did start to feel comfortable with her. It didn't really scare me that my hands were on her hips or that I had two left feet. We just swayed to the slow trumpets and smooth saxophones, and after a while, believe it or not, I actually started to lead. She was quiet the whole time, and eventually she just rested her head on my chest, and that didn't scare me either.

"You know Steve, you make yourself seem like such a worse dancer than you really are," she muttered into my chest after what seemed like an eternity.

I blushed, "Guess it just depends on the partner."

"Maybe…." She trailed off into the symphony.

"It's working by the way," I said, looking down at her.

"What is?"

"The whole feeling the song thing; plus, it isn't lame."

"Yeah it is."

"Okay, maybe a little."

Then the silence was restored. The only sound was the Moonlight Serenade, and while we swung, I began to think. Stark knew about my feelings for Marty because I didn't even bother to hide them, and apparently neither did she. The only people we seemed to be hiding from was each other, and as we both danced to our time's music, it was as if we knew what the other was feeling, but didn't dare put them into words, voice them, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

As the song came to a close and the last note was played out, Marty let her hands fall from off my shoulders. "Steve, I need to tell you something," she said, making my heart stop in my chest.

I immediately dropped my hands from her waist. "Shoot," I said as a million and one things raced into my head.

"Back in the tunnel, I didn't just faint," she said.

"Then what _did_ happen?" I asked, worriedly.

"Something happen to me, it was like…I don't know how to explain it," she said, flopping down on my bed. I sat down beside her, waiting anxiously for her to continue. "It was like I was shutting down."

"That's usually how fainting feels, Marty."

"No, it was different; I've fainted before, Steve. I couldn't hear anymore, or see. It was like my organs were…dying; it was freaky," she explained.

"And why do the doctors _think _you just fainted?" I asked. She was up to something again….

"I couldn't tell them. Steve, Fury would never let me on another mission—!"

"Marty, Marty, no," I said, shaking my head, "If you're sick, we need to tell the doctors."

"Steve, promise me you won't say anything," she begged, anyways.

"Marty, it might be dangerous for you to go out on missions now, anyways."

"No, listen; it could've just been a onetime thing. We'll just wait it out, okay?"

"But—"

"_Okay?_"

I didn't know what to say. If Marty were to get hurt again because I didn't save her when I had the chance, then I wouldn't know what to do with myself, but the look of desperation in her eyes, and the fact that she came to me for confidentiality sent the word flying out of my mouth with ease.

"Okay."

"I knew I could count on you," she said, punching me lightly on the shoulder. She sprung up from the bed, "Okay, well I should get going. Thanks for the dance."

"Anytime," I said truthfully, rubbing my neck.

So, she turned around and started to make her way over to the door, but she hesitated on the threshold and looked over her shoulder. "You do remember where the song was from, don't you?" When I didn't answer she continued, "It was the song you and Peggy danced to…'night Steve," and the door beeped to a close behind her.


	14. Mind Tricks

_***Hello, guys! What's up? So, yeah, this week was long as hell, but I finally got this up. Hope you like it. **_

_**I still haven't seen Iron Man 3, if you're wondering. I glad you all enjoyed it...without me. **_

_**yeah, but on June 10th I will be out of school and I'll be able to write every freaking day! So, that's a plus. Okay, go read. Leave me a review if you can and tell me what you think, predict, ect...**_

_**See you. **_

_**-Noor xx**_

**Marty**

I looked over the barrel of my rifle, keeping my eyes fixated on the target beyond it. The wooden board stood about six yards from me, molded into the shape of a human with five outlines that moved in closer and closer to the center of the body. Natasha had pulled me out early from bed to come down here, the shooting range. The point of the exercise was to practice on precision, to aim for people's vitals. The pair of us each wore a bullet proof vest over our chests and had taken a gun off from shelves.

I pulled the trigger for the hundredth time that morning. The bullet zoomed across the room and missed its target by just a little, landing in the second closest section to the center. "Damn…" I muttered under my breath, lowering the rifle.

"That's the closest shot so far, Miss Barnes," Natasha spoke from beside me before pulling the trigger on her own gun. The bullet, by no surprise, landed in the smack middle of the board. "It's an improvement."

"Yeah, that's easy to believe when you've completely assassinated like twenty boards," I said sarcastically with a yawn, rubbing my eyes with my arms.

"Have trouble sleeping lately?" She asked, planting another bullet in the center of the board.

"Nu-uh, I sleep like a baby every night, Agent Romanoff…like a baby," I lied, blinking away the blur in my watery eyes.

She was right, though; I have had trouble sleeping, and it wasn't just lately. I barely got a wink of sleep since the night HYDRA's plane went down in the ocean. The flashbacks I had experienced on my first night in the Helicarrier were the first of many. Every night since then had been filled with painful images of the past. Everything from Joey Brooks slicing off my hair under the dim light of a bathroom to the sight of a fresh and bloody bullet hole in Bucky's body had revisited me in my sleep, and it was kind of hard to relax when the stomach wrenching and petrifying sounds of missiles kept going off in your head.

So, yeah, I did have trouble sleeping lately, but maybe the reason I kept on yawning was the fact that Natasha had dragged me out of bed before dawn had even struck. We had been shooting bullets in hypothetical enemies for at least two hours and the sun was just starting to seep into the training room.

"Keep working, Barnes," Natasha demanded, and so I did.

I raised my rifle once again and aimed for the center of the board. We trained in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sound of gun shots and the endless humming of the ship could be heard, and then she spoke. "Did the doctors ever find out what happened to you in London?"

"Uh, yeah, my blood sugar was low, got a little dizzy, got a little unconscious; no big deal," I lied yet again with a shrug.

"Right," she said curtly, annihilating the board again. "Next time make sure to drink some orange juice before you accept another mission, maybe then we'll get the cube," She added with her usual casual tone, but I could sense the tiniest bit of iciness and attitude laying between her words.

I gave her a sideways glance, slightly confused by the way she had said it. "Uh…will do?" I said unsurely. Natasha wasn't an easy person to read at all. She was mysterious and had a sneaky way with words, but she probably meant nothing by it. So, I just raised my rifle to take another go at the board, but then she spoke again, with the same plain yet cold tone as before.

"What exactly happened out there?"

I hesitated for a moment before answering. "Well, we were fighting off Loki's guys, and then I saw Barton—."

The gunshot echoed through the shooting range and Natasha's bullet shot through the board. I looked over at her once again. Her knife-like eyes, which were slightly hidden by fiery bangs, were still glued to the target in front of her. "Then?" she asked flatly, though her attitude was more evident this time.

"Then…" I continued as I felt my temper rise. It was just a tad bit, but it stirred in my blood threateningly. "Then, I saw him take the cube into a briefcase. I chased him down the tunnel, passed out, he got away, that's the story," I said, trying not to let my anger get the best of me.

I get that Barton was her partner, okay? If Steve was to go off and get brainwashed by some psycho with a magical stick, then yeah I'd be angry and worried as hell too, but she couldn't blame me; it wasn't my job to get Barton back, it was my job to get the cube, and I couldn't even do that….

"Natasha," I said, using her first name. I lowered my gun, turning to face her. "Barton's fine by the way… (You know, other than the two bullets I put in his arm), he's perfectly fine—."

"Take a break, Barnes; meet me back here in an hour or so; get some food," she said, completely ignoring my attempt to ease her worries. She put the gun back in its place, tore the vest of her chest, and walked out of the training room without another word.

I huffed in frustration. With my temper escalating quickly, I raised the rifle in my hand, and without bothering to aim and see where the hell I was putting the bullet, I pulled the trigger. It hit the smack center of the board. "You _gotta_ be_ shittin' _me," I muttered at the irony, throwing the rifle back on the shelf. I sighed as I shook my head, pulling the vest off my body and dropping it to the floor. Then, after taking another look at the smoking bullet hole in my board, I left the training room and let my aggravation lead me through the gray halls of the ship.

**In a Board of Directors Meeting**

The director stood in front of the numerous screens that crowded the wall before him. They were all blank, but soon each one would bare the live video of another SHIELD director. Nick Fury wasn't the only one in charge in the agency. Sure, he was the leading agent (Not to mention, he was the only one with an eye patch and bad ass jacket to go with it), but Fury was definitely _not_ the only one. There were others, and in this kind of agency, it wasn't just about one director's opinion; it was majority rule, and that's why Fury dreaded these Board of Directors meetings. He didn't like people telling him what to do. These directors were the ones that had told Fury the Avengers Initiative was the wrong approach to such a major crisis, and yet Fury called in his 'team', despite them. This would be their first meeting since the beginning of the Initiative, and Fury could only imagine what they had to say to him now.

He faced the black, gleaming screens with his hands behind his back, waiting for his coworkers to join him. Then, all at once, each screen glowed to life, and there was a professional and business like face of a director on each screen. Most were men, some were women, but they were all there for the same cause; or at least that they were supposed to be.

"Good morning, Director Fury," The man in the middle screen spoke. He was rather old, with white hair, a large pale face, and a bored expression.

"Good morning," Fury replied respectfully, scanning his eye over all the screens in the dark room.

"We have quite a lot of catching up to do, Director," a woman spoke this time, her almost scolding tone rung out from the screen to the right of the middle one. She was also pretty old, very plain, but the way she raised her thin eyebrows and rested her wrinkled chin on her hands made her disapproval incredibly apparent.

"Well, then we should get started," Fury said, folding his arms over his chest now. He should've known they'd have a laundry list of things to complain about, and all he could do was brace himself.

"Firstly," the man in the middle began again, "The Tesseract, have you recovered it?"

Fury sighed, "No, we tracked it all the way to a tunnel in London where it got away from us. A…agent chased down Clint Barton; he's a brainwashed agent of ours. He had the cube in his possession, but when the said…agent feel unconscious, he got away."

A fit of muttering broke out through the screens, in which Fury could only stand and watch, and try not to lose his temper. "Doesn't sound like much of an improvement, Director," a second man spoke from a screen to the left of the middle one.

Fury closed his eye for a short second, releasing a deep breath. He knew thing weren't going as smoothly as he had planned. "I'm aware of our setback—."

"This is more than a setback, Director," the woman spoke this time, cutting him off. "What exactly was the cube doing in the tunnel? Here in the debrief it says that Loki's men were experimenting with…" the woman pushed glasses up her pointy nose and glanced down at the piece of paper in front of her, "Iridium; a type of rare metal. What are they using it for?"

"Stark and Banner think they are using it to stabilize the Tesseract, we still do not have a lot of information on the matter, but we are working on getting the details. We have Eric Selvig in custody now, the man who was experimenting with the Iridium; we are going to question him as soon as possible." Fury said, wishing she would honestly shut her thin lips and just let him do his job.

Again, another fit of muttering, and Fury could feel the vein in his head bulge with irritation. "Director Fury, you understand that Phase 2 cannot fully be complete without the Tesseract?" The man in the middle reminded Fury for the hundredth time.

"Yes, I'm fully aware of everything," was his impatient reply. Phase 2 was SHIELD's inside plan, and it was an essential factor into winning the war. Without the Tesseract, it was useless. Fury hated to admit, but the people in front of him were right. The Avengers may be impressive, but Phase 2 was their secret weapon.

"And who is that said agent who ran after Barton in London?" The second man asked.

Fury sighed; he hoped he would be able to avoid this subject. "Her name is Marty Barnes…she was our previous trespasser. She snuck on to the ship, as you all already know, but she insisted on fighting with us and went an unauthorized mission. She's the reason we have Loki behind bars."

"And?" they persisted.

"And I gave her my consent to fight along our personnel," Fury continued, preparing himself for the disapproval he knew was coming his way.

"You're allowing a trespasser to fight alongside our personnel. Director, now I don't know what kind of show you're running down on that ship, but she could be a spy for all we know." The man in the middle raged.

"A historical icon and a dear friend of Captain Rogers – I doubt she's a spy," Fury said, to his surprise, defensively, "and I know about spies."

"Marty Barnes; the woman we dug out of the ice a couple months ago? Director, is she even capable of battle, is she adapt to her body?"

"She's undergoing training with some of our best agents –."

"Director," the woman interjected, "there is a war brewing out there, and we need to be prepared with the right men and the right weapons. We should be focusing on finding the cube, not turning our agents into physical therapists."

Fury felt his blood boil behind the leather. Oh now he was getting pissed. "I'm sorry, Director, but you seem to have missed what I said before," Fury said, planting his hands on his hips. "Marty Barnes may be a trespasser, but like I said before, she is the reason Loki is behind bars, and personally I don't give two shits if our agents have to become 'physical therapists', because Barnes brought something to my attention not too long ago; this is a war, and we can use _all_ the help we can get."

"But, Director, how do we know we can trust her?"

"Captain Rogers trusts her. The entire United States trusts her."

"Is that enough?"

Fury sighed and raised a hand to his head, rubbing his temples. He wasn't sure why he was getting so angry, but Barnes, he somewhat hated to admit, had been a helpful hand so far. Sure she was a pain in the ass, but she was _his_ pain in the ass, she was _his _problem,_ his_ burden, and frankly, he wanted her there. So, he looked up at the screens and gave them the highest form of reassurance he could, "_I_ trust her."

**Marty**

You think after walking down these halls so many times, you'd just end up seeing the same things over and over again, and I did for a while. I saw the usual storage, weapons, training, and sleeping rooms. I saw Tony and Bruce working away through the lab window. I walked past the main command center and control rooms. There was one place however, I hadn't been yet. Like I said before, I was way too frustrated to even think about where my feet were taking me, but eventually they ended up leading me to nearly the end of the plane, far off in the corner of the left wing where there were almost no agents or personnel, just a whole bunch of security monitoring the halls. It got me thinking; what the hell was down there?

As I strolled blindly down the hall, my anger seemed to simmer down and eventually evaporate. Curiosity had taken over me, and as I walked and walked down the peculiarly room-less hall, I was finally greeted by a metal door at the very end of it, and I clicked it open without a minute's hesitation. Immediately I knew why there was only one room here and why it was so far away from all the rest of the action on the ship. It was a prison, a large, round, glass prison. The green eyes and sneer of a familiar demi-god greeted me from behind the thick glass. "Miss Barnes, _I must say_, I was growing quite restless since our last meeting," Loki spoke shadily from inside his glass prison.

"Restless; how come?" I asked calmly, stepping further into the room as the doors shut behind me.

"Why, because I wished to see you again," Loki said, as if I should've already known his answer.

"Aw, that's sweet, pal, but uh…" I said, taking a quick look around the room before stepping closer to his case, folding my arms over my chest, and looking up at his pale and sickly face, "you're not really my type."

"Ah…yes, but you see, Miss Barnes, I do believe you are mine," Loki replied, his smirk dropping for a moment, in which his emerald eyes grew intense and determined in their gaze, almost keen.

"Well, this relationship would never work," I said, not breaking my gaze with him for a second, although his eyes were pretty startling in their stare, "You're in a glass prison and I…well I'm free."

Loki chuckled airily. "Freedom; do you really believe in such lies?" He asked moving closer towards the glass.

"Yeah, I do, but it must be pretty hard for you to get it through your head with the whole 10 pound helmet thing going on," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Then maybe I overestimated your greatness, Miss Barnes," Loki said with a raise of his dark brows before giving me his back.

"Wait," I said, instantly, making him stop in his tracks, "What greatness?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, have I struck a nerve, Miss Barnes?" Loki asked as he spun around, his white sneer wiped across his face again. "You can't bare the mere sound of someone depreciating you, damaging your pride, can't you?"

"What greatness?" I asked again, though his words had already seeped into my mind, infecting it.

"You made me seem like a fool on that cliff, made me seem _weak_," he stressed the last word, articulating every syllable. "You see, Miss Barnes, you and I are alike—."

"I'll never be like you—."

"I too have immense pride, and usually, I would've sunken my scepter into your pathetic mortal heart the moment I had a chance for making me seem so insubordinate, but there was something about you," Loki spoke, pressing himself up against the glass. "You were special, you had spirit, power. You know you are strong, and you make it your personal goal to prove those very qualities to every person who believes otherwise. Oh, and when you have achieved your goal, Miss Barnes, which you never fail to do, every mouth in the room shuts."

I didn't know what to say for a long moment, but just as before, his words had found their way into my system, and were now coursing my veins, and I didn't know whether I liked that feeling or not. All I knew was that it was time to get the hell out of the room and remove this conversation from my head…if it was even possible. "Have a nice flight, Loki," I said, turning around to head to the door.

"Oh, don't get modest now, not when someone has truly acknowledged your potential," Loki said, again stealing my mind from me once again.

"Cut the riddle shit, Loki," I snapped, turning around, feeling my muscles tense and my blood boil.

"You don't want riddles, fine," Loki slammed a fist against the glass, making me jump. "Join me."

I actually couldn't fight the laugh, "Join _you_? Wow, you're crazier than I thought, pal."

"_You are powerful, Barnes_," Loki said almost manically, his dark hair falling into his face, his eyes meeting mine, making my stomach churn uneasily. "You could help start a new world, the right world, ridden of freedom and cruel lies."

"Okay, nice talking to you," I said, turning around and walking towards the door.

"No one would ever question you again—!"

"See you, Loki!" I said as the doors slid open.

"See you, Miss Barnes."

And I walked out into the hall, running a sweating hand through my short hair, my heart thumping against my chest, my mind racing. I hadn't even realized how much I had lost my cool in there, but Loki could play mind tricks, and they were scary tricks, because they worked, even if it was only for a second.


	15. A Man All About Truth

_***Hola muchachos! How's everybody tonight? I hope your week has been full of happiness and rainbows and pizza. Here's the 15th chapter, lovelies. This one was pretty fun to write. I don't know if it was the angry Steve or Marty throwing up. Maybe it was because I wrote this all day instead of studying, but yeah, it was a blast. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**_

_**(I still haven't watched IM3, but my dad thought it would be hilarious to go watch it without me. HAHAHAHAHA Jerk.)**_

_**See you!**_

_**-Noor xx***_

**Lockdown**

Phil hastily made his way down the grey halls of the ship, pressing a finger up to his earpiece. "Yes, I'm on my way right now, sir," he spoke professionally as he approached the metal door at the end of the long hall; the Lockdown room. He had visited Lockdown more than he would've liked in the past few weeks. First, he had entered it to talk to Miss Barnes, which he had to admit he was somewhat excited for at the time. She was an icon to him just as much as Captain Rogers was, but this time, there was nothing exciting about his visit. He was going there on business; he was there to interrogate, to get answers.

The agent approached the metal door, nimbly tapping in the correct passcode onto the touchscreen panel. The door automatically slid open and Coulson let himself in. "Sorry to keep you waiting so long, Doctor Selvig," he said in his usual calm and collected tone as the door shut behind him. He stood face to face with SHIELD's former ally, and unfortunately, newest prisoner.

"Oh, no problem, I'm in no rush, Agent Coulson," Selvig replied just as calmly, looking up from the tightly secured cuffs around his wrist and up at the agent with unnaturally blue eyes.

"Good," Coulson replied, taking a seat in front of the older man, interlocking his hands on the metal table, "Because we have quite a few things we need to talk over."

Coulson felt odd approaching his former ally in such a tone, but Eric Selvig was no longer the incredibly capable scientist that once worked alongside the agency. His eyes were glowing with the new perspective Loki had forced upon him. Selvig was, at least for now, their enemy. "I have no secrets," Selvig replied, unafraid.

"Doctor Selvig, why don't you tell me what you were doing in an abandoned tunnel underneath London," Coulson demanded more than questioned.

The professor shifted slightly in his seat, a slight smile forming on his thing lips, "Revolutionizing."

The agent furrowed his brows, "Revolutionizing what?"

"The Tesseract," was the professor's simple reply.

"And what, Doctor, is so revolutionary about the experiments you were preforming on the cube?" The agent persisted, taking a mental note of everything the professor had to say.

"I was stabilizing it."

"With the Iridium?"

"Exactly," Selvig said, nodding his head.

"What were you stabilizing it for?" Coulson continued.

The professor's smile widened and he leaned into the metal table, his eyes wide with fascination, "For a machine."

Coulson paused for a moment, taking in the new information. "What type of machine?"

"It's really incredible, actually. I thought it was impossible at first, but Loki…oh Loki has these _ideas_, and they just make _sense_…" The professor trailed off, idolizing his new leader.

"I'll rephrase my question, Doctor," Coulson said more firmly. "What machine are you building and what does the Tesseract have to do with it?"

"We're building a machine that will open doors, Agent, huge doors, and the Tesseract is the key!" Selvig replied loudly, excitement bursting on every word.

"And tell me, Selvig, where do these doors open up to, exactly?" Coulson asked, ignoring the professor's almost maniacal enthusiasm.

"Other worlds, Coulson…other dimensions _entirely_…."

**Marty**

That morning I sprung up from bed, sweaty and gasping for air, from yet another string of flashbacks. Once I managed to catch my breath, I swung my legs over the mattress and meant to head out into the hall, but as soon as my feet hit the ground, this wave of nausea and dizziness rushed over me. After watching the room spin for a few seconds, I instantly had to bring my hands up to my lips to stop last night's dinner, which somehow found its way into my mouth, from spilling over on to the floor. I quickly stumbled my way into the bathroom and let it all out into the sink (I couldn't make it to the toilet).

Without having much control over my body at this point, I sank onto the ground, my chest heaving, beads of cold sweat dripped down my face. I tried to steady my breathing, burying my head into my knees and sitting on my hands to stop them from shaking. "What the hell is happening to me…?" I whispered, but there was no answer, just the humming of the ship and the pounding of my heart in my throat.

When finally the walls stopped spinning and my hands stopped shaking, I grabbed the edge of the sink and hoisted myself off the bathroom floor. I looked into the mirror; a yellow-faced and baggy-eyed Marty greeted me. "Looking good, Barnes…looking good," I said to myself again before running water over the throw up in the sink.

By the time I had washed my face and gotten some fresh clothes on, I was feeling much better. Good; now I could pretend none of it happened and go on with my very normal yet not normal at all life.

I stepped out into the hall, running a hand through my short brown hair. I didn't even know where I was supposed to go. I would've headed over to the training rooms, but to be honest, what had just happened to me in there kind of worried me, and I didn't want to blackout like I did back in London. So, I removed that idea from my head and instead began making my way to Stark and Banner's lab.

I started down the grey halls, trying to figure out which thought in my jam-packed head I was supposed to focus on first. There were the flashbacks, the thought of me being sick, and not to mention the last conversation Loki and I had had the other night. I just couldn't really wrap my head around it. Why on Earth would a guy like Loki, with so much power, want me on his side? Was this just his method to get more allies out of SHIELD without the power of his scepter, or did he actually mean all that shit about him realizing my 'true potential' and that I was 'special'?

I just couldn't get his tone out of my head. The way he spoke to me, it was eager and wanting, as if having me by his side would bring the entire human race to their knees. At the time, I'm not going to lie, it kind of flattered me, the way he spoke so highly of me. I might've even considered actually joining him for a split-second, but don't go getting the wrong idea about me. If you were there, if you heard the sincerity in his voice, the lure it had, you would've thought about it too, even if it was for just a short second.

…

"You really think they're hiding something?" I asked the inventor as I sat on top of the metal table, swinging my legs back and forth. I finally made my way into the lab, and had just listened to Stark explain his theories about SHIELD to me for the past ten minutes. He's got this hunch that maybe they've got something to hide, something they're not telling us.

"I more than just think so, Marty," Tony said, looking over the edge of his screen and towards me, "I'm about…97% positive," he added, cocking his head to the right slightly.

I laughed lightly, "Well, pal, they are a pretty secretive agency; I'm sure they've got plenty of things they're not telling us, right?" I said, looking from Stark to Banner.

"Yeah, but this is something else…this is got to do with the Tesseract," Bruce replied, leaning beside me against the table.

"And how are you planning on cracking the case, Sherlock?" I asked sarcastically, looking back over at the brunette.

"JARVIS," he replied simply with a smirk.

"JARVIS…? Who the hell is JARVIS?" I asked, raising a brow at him.

"Well, I guess you can say 'who', but it's more of a 'what'," Tony replied vaguely, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay, Stark, you lost me," I said, slowly shaking my head.

"_JARVIS_ is artificial intelligence. I'm having him crack into all of SHIELD's databases, files; everything," He went on, only making me lose him even more. "Actually, he should be finishing up real soon."

Countless more questions immediately popped into my head, but just as I was about to ask them, the door of the lab slid open, and Steve stood in the doorway. "Hey," I said, smiling over at him.

''Mornin'," he said, nodding his head, giving me a small smile as well.

"Can we help you, Cap? We're sort of in the middle of a conspiracy theory meeting," Tony said casually, not looking away from his screen.

"Hate to crash your meeting, Stark, but I need Marty," Steve said, stepping further into the room.

"I think I feel a confession coming on," Tony said giving Steve a big, fake wink, making the captain go red in the face.

What was all that about…?

"Marty?" Steve said, turning to me.

"I'm comin'," I said, jumping off the table. "Say hi to JARVIS for me," I added, and I had just enough time to hear Tony laugh before I walked out of the lab with Steve. "What's up?" I asked, looking up at him as soon as we were out of the lab.

"We gotta train," he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. It was only then that I realized that he was in his black skintight muscle shirt, already dressed and ready to train.

"Right," I said, taking a long look at his muscles before meeting his eyes again, "is that an order, Captain?" I said in an almost flirtatious tone that had come out of nowhere.

"You bet," he said in, surprisingly, the same tone as me.

…

"So, you really think this JARVIS guy's gonna find something?" I asked Steve, throwing another punch into the bag.

"Maybe…do you?" He asked, dropping his fists from his own bag for a second to look over at me.

I let my hands fall to my side. "I mean, I think they might have a point. There's no harm in checking, right?" I asked, slightly titling my head to the side, but just as I did, it began to ache like hell. For a second, the sight of Steve running a hand through his sweaty hair went a little blurry, a little black, and I thought I was about to pass out again, but then I went back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Marty, you okay, you don't too good," Steve said, taking a worried step towards me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, although at that moment, my legs were starting to feel like jelly. I clung to the punching bag, trying to make it seem as though I was in perfect condition, wondering if my face had gone back to its sickly yellow, but Steve didn't look convinced at all.

"Why don't we just take a break?" Steve suggested, slowly nodding his head.

I walked over to the one of the benches and sunk down without a single word. He sat down beside me, and I could feel his troubled eyes glued to me. "What are you lookin' at?"

"Marty, are you feeling okay lately. Are you starting to feel sick again, like back in Lon—?"

"Nope," I lied instantly, looking over at him, but I couldn't look him in the eye for too long.

Steve sighed, his face dropping. I closed my eyes and just rested my head on his shoulder for a moment. I knew he knew I was lying. I also knew that he was too sweet to say that he knew. I didn't want him to think I didn't trust him, though, because obviously I did. I trusted Steve with my life, dammit, and I just couldn't lose his that confidence I had in him. So, I decided I needed to tell him something to put my conscious at rest. "There is something else that I need to tell you, though."

"Shoot," Steve said immediately.

"I had a talk with Loki the other day…" I began hesitantly, feeling as though this was going to end badly.

"A talk about what?" Steve said, trying to sound casual, but I could hear the defensiveness and eagerness in his voice.

I laughed, trying to keep the causal thing going, but the light laugh just sort of made me go light-headed, so I dropped it. "He wants me to 'join him' or something," I said, still not looking up at him.

"What?" This time he didn't bother to hide the anxiousness in his tone.

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. Don't worry, Steve, I'm not gonna go running off into the sunset with a Norse God or anything," I said, nudging him slightly.

"I know it's just kind of…."

"Weird?"

"Yeah," Steve said simply, but I could almost hear all the anxious thoughts racing through his head.

"Anyways, we should keep going," I said, sitting up straight and getting up off the bench.

"Right," Steve said, clearing his throat as he stood up, his jaw hard, his eyes lost in thought.

What had I just started…?

**In a Jet **

Barton leaned over the pilot of the jet, scanning the radar on the control board in front of him. "That's them, sir," the pilot said, pointing to a little blinking red dot on the radar. That dot was their next heading, their destination, that dot was the Helicarrier. They had been tracking down the ship ever since Selvig had been taken into custody by SHEILD back in London. Without the professor, the building of their machine had be put on pause, but tonight they were going to get him back, they were going to break into the Helicarrier.

"Alright boys, buckle up," he said, grabbing his bow from the seat beside him and the arrow-filled quiver that leaned against the wall of the jet, throwing it over his shoulder, "looks like we got a heading."

**Steve**

The rest of the training session, for me, was spent planning out how I was going to get to Loki's prison without looking suspicious. I know Marty wouldn't have wanted me to go see him, but she couldn't just give me such a vague summary of their 'talk' and not expect to go get the real story. Marty was being awfully secretive lately, and I didn't like it. It wasn't because I was nosy, or needed to know every little detail. It was just that, when Marty kept secrets, they weren't normal ones. Her secrets were destructive, things that were bound to get her and other people hurt in the end, and I wasn't going to risk that.

So, when finally, we had both had enough time with the punching bags, I called it a night. I walked Marty to her room and made sure she got in there before turning around and heading down the hall. Now all I had to do was find where they were keeping Loki, but I didn't even know where to start. I stopped in my tracks and began to think. If I was keeping an enemy captive on my own ship, where would I put him…?

I thought about this for a moment. Okay, I'd probably put him far away from everyone else, so he didn't have a clear view of what was going on. I'd isolate him and make sure he couldn't see what I was planning. So, with these thoughts, I considered the design of the ship. The rooms were down Marty's hall, the command center was up ahead, the labs and training rooms were to the west of me, which meant that the only explainable place for Loki would be the east wing.

With that, I quickly began making my way down the east wing. At first, there were numerous rooms and labs, but as I got further and further down the halls, as I turned more corners, the halls became more complex, hard to follow, and soon it was just me and some heavy security. I ignored the guards, trying to act as unsuspicious as possible. Once I managed to slip past them, I found myself in a hall with no rooms but one. It lay at the very end of the hall, isolated, heavily secured, there was no other explanation; this had to be it.

I steadily began walking down the hall until I reached the door. I hesitated for a moment, thinking about whether or not this was a good idea, but then I remembered that Marty might end up getting hurt if I didn't walk into that room, so I did. The door slid open and immediately I was greeted by a large glass case and the pleasantly surprised features of Loki. He smiled a wide, white smile, and his piercing green eyes widened with intrigue.

"Captain, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He mocked in an overly respectful tone.

"Please, the pleasure's all mine," I said firmly as the door shut behind me.

"I've been getting _quite _a few visitors in the past couple of days, Captain," the demi-god spoke as he began to circle his glass prison. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but it seems as though you are all beginning to warm up to me."

"You're wrong," I said flatly with a shrug.

He stopped in his tracks, turned on the heel of his leather boots, and faced me, "Oh, but I'm not."

I stood there confusedly for a moment, and then he spoke again. "There is one person in particular whom I believe has grown a liking to me…."

That's when I got mad. "Marty is the last person who'd grow a liking to you, Loki," I said gravely, walking up to the case.

Loki's grin spread across his face, "You are blinded by your love, Captain; it's repellent! But Barnes…there is no woman quite like her, is there?"

"What did you say to her?" I asked, looking him dead in his emerald eyes.

"The _truth_," he spoke simply.

"Which is?"

"Tell me, Captain, do you ever wonder why everyone tends to doubt Miss Barnes?" He asked, avoiding my question.

I thought about it for a moment, but there was no need to think, the answer was obvious. "Yes—."

"Do you _know_ why?" He continued.

I sighed, glancing down to the floor. "No—."

"They _fear _her," he said, narrowing his eyes. "She's so powerful, so strong that they need to keep her below their boots because they're afraid of what she is capable of. You love Miss Barnes, do you not?"

"I do," I said, and I couldn't help, even with Loki in front of me, realize how right it felt to say it.

"Then you'll agree that she is so much more than they all make her out to seem?"

"Of course," I said, not being able to disagree with him so far.

"And that, _Captain_, is all that I told her. I told her what the pair of us both just fully agreed upon," Loki said, but I knew that there was more, there was so much more.

"Right, did you tell her all of this_ before_ or _after_ you asked her to join your army?" I asked from behind gritted teeth.

Loki chuckle airily, "I forget."

I felt my boil in my veins, a fiery sensation spread through my body. I got so close to the glass that is was beginning to fog up, "Well, you better try really hard to remember."

"Is that a threat?" Loki said, getting equally close.

"Hell yes it is," I replied confidently.

"Barnes has no place on your side, don't you see? With me, she will be given the respect she deserves. She can help build a new world from the ground up, Captain. Would you not wish that for her, to be respected?"

I wanted to agree, I _did_ agree, but not entirely. "Marty _is_ respected, maybe not as much as she deserves, but she always finds a way to gain it, not have it thrown at her as a bribe. She's got more dignity than that, Loki."

"Well put, I just wish it was true," he said, slowly shaking his head.

"And you're all about truth aren't you?" I said, narrowing my eyes. "You don't know the first thing about Marty."

"I know her enough to know that what I said to her, the supposed _bribe_ I_ threw_ at her, affected her. She left this room dripping sweat, her hands were trembling, Captain. Her mind was screaming, telling her that what I said was right, that I was her gateway to the top." Loki spoke, making my stomach drop.

"You're lying—."

"But I am all about truth, you said it yourself, did you not?!" Loki retorted loudly.

I couldn't find the words to speak for a long moment. I didn't know whether what he was saying was true or not. So, I told him the one thing I did know, "Her mind may have been screaming, but her heart was the reason she still said no to your face. That's called having a conscious, Loki, that's what_ gains_ respect."


	16. (I Just Have A Question Guys)

So, guys, I want to talk to you about something. Lately, I feel like this story has been sort of a let down. I mean, I guess that's just the vibe I'm getting. The first Lady America was really successful, the most read thing I've ever done actually, and it was freaking awesome. Now, however, I'm wondering if a sequel was such a good idea. In the beginning, things were going great, but lately, I feel like you guys have lost interest. I get a lot less reviews nowadays, and a lot of them seem slightly confused. Don't get me wrong, I still smile like an idiot at every review and appreciate you giving your time to write out a few words to tell me how you liked it, but I feel like I'm dragging this plot out and no one's really interested anymore.

So, let me ask. Do you guys think I should continue writing, or do you think I should have just kept it as Lady America, without the 2? Tell me your thoughts, I'd really appreciate it and it might give me some clarity.

Thank you guys!

-Noor xx


	17. (So, I've Made A Decision)

Alright, first off, thank you so much for your words of encouragement and criticism, I really appreciate it. I know a handful of you guys really want me to continue, which I think is amazing, but a few of you have brought some good points to my attention. You guys are right, this story lacks passion, lacks the whole Steve/OC thing in general. But for where I am in the plot, I feel like it might be too late to start adding it in. So, here's what I'm going to do...

I take a break from Lady America, maybe write some other stories while I'm at it (I actually have quite a few stories in mind). In this short 'hiatus' as one of you suggested, I'm going to rethink the plot entirely. I'll probably make it post-Avengers, too. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet, but I really want to make it feel like a love story while adding all action and suspense. So, this isn't goodbye to Marty, or her journey with Steve. It's just a small break, and I think it's for the best.

So, hopefully you guys understand why I'm doing this, but I promise, the re-write of the sequel is going to be great! Thank you again for your words and all the time you took to give me real and useful advice.

I'll be deleting the sequel off the site in a few days or so, but never feel shy to come and PM me!

-Noor xx


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